101st
by Archer969
Summary: Continuing the adventures of Buffy and Barb, minor femslash.
1. Chapter 1: The Planes

Disclaimer 1: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer do not belong to me. All I do is write about my imaginings for them.

Disclaimer 2: There is minor femslash in the story.

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The Planes

I was awoken, or at least came back to awareness, by the insistent tapping on my foot. I opened one eye wearily and saw Buffy was still laying facing away from me but now her head was turned back to me, I could barely heard her voice over the roar of the engines, "Pacific!"

I looked past her and despite the glare of the sun setting almost directly in front of us I could make out the twinkle of water on the horizon. I looked down through the clear Plexiglas nose and could see the golden hills of California; then I felt the plane bank slightly as it turned onto a more southerly course. Buffy had turned her attention back to the view in front of us, her form rounded and indistinct in the multiple layers of clothing she was wearing to combat the freezing temperatures at altitude. From the view outside I could tell we had descended quite a ways, we were probably down to about 8000 feet, confirmed by the fact that Buffy didn't have her oxygen mask on any longer.

I started breaking out of the cocoon I'd made by wrapping blankets around me in an unsuccessful attempt to stay warm and comfortable for the long flight. The nose of the B-17F we were in was not well sealed, especially since no one had bothered to plug the empty holes through which the forward machine guns normally protruded. An icy wind had torn through the area chilling everything and even causing frost to form on some of the exposed metal beams when we had been at cruising altitude. Now it had warmed up considerably, it was probably above freezing.

I stretched, trying to loosen muscles aching from the inactivity brought on by the long flight. We had left Washington early this morning and had been in the air for over twelve hours, finally it seemed it was coming to an end. As I stretched my legs a jabbing pain came from my right leg, the wound in it was still healing and it disliked being stressed. I could get around pretty well with the help of a cane but it was a ways from being fully healed. I took off the oxygen mask and took a deep breath of fresh air, then rubbed my face to try and get rid of the numb spots where the mask had been clamped against it for so long. I took a couple of the blankets I'd been using and jammed them behind me and leaned back against them. I found I could stretch out my legs beside Buffy, only having to nudge her to get her to move over a little, and I had a fairly comfortable sitting place with a good view out of the nose. In the distance I could see the hills and then the Pacific Ocean; we had to be getting close to LA.

It had been a whirlwind six days since we'd left England; I still could not believe that the Army Air Force was actually going to let us put together a female fighter group, even an 'experimental and provisional' one as they classified it. But the war was not going well, the German's were still charging across Russia with no signs of anybody stopping them. The only hope I could see for the Russian's was the infamous Russian winter, but so far the winter had held off, the last I'd heard the Germans were within a hundred miles of Moscow. The Japs in the Pacific were also still running wild, although we were fighting hard on some island down near Australia called Guadalcanal - it wasn't clear who was going to win that battle.

The Army Air Force desperately needed fighter groups, both for what offensive capability they had and to escort the growing bomber forces. The long touted ability of the bomber's to defend themselves, whether they were called 'Flying Fortresses' like the one we were in or not, had proven to be woefully inadequate against modern fighters, they were being cut to ribbons. Fighter pilots could be trained only so fast, and when you had to start from scratch it took more than a year. The powers had finally realized that there was a largely untapped pool of trained pilots, women, that could be used to fill the gap until raw recruits could be trained in the numbers needed to meet requirements. And given that Colonel Miller, our former CO in the 89th Fighter Group, had let Buffy command a squadron that had racked up more kills in two months than any other entire fighter group had thrown the argument that women couldn't fly in combat right out the window.

President Roosevelt had taken the bull by the horns and ordered us back to the States to organize the 101st Fighter Group, Female, Experimental and Provisional and we had less than three months to do it. Fortunately the group itself was already mostly formed in terms of personnel and equipment, the male pilots that had already been assigned had been reassigned to other new groups. Buffy and I were on our way to Burbank to pick up two new P-38s from the Lockheed factory before starting a cross country tour to find the 70 plus female pilots we needed for the group.

We had flown back from England along with some enlisted personnel from our old squadron that we'd managed to get out of Colonel Miller so we would have some people that actually knew us in the new group. Hopefully they would help the rest of the personnel accept the fact that they would be working with and for women. We'd gotten Master, now First, Sergeant Gunderson, the 611ths maintenance chief to agree to be the maintenance chief for the 101st, along with Billy 'Mac' MacKinley my former crew chief and Sgt. Timmons, Buffy's crew chief and a beast of a mechanic along with another couple of mechanics. Colonel Miller had also sent Sergeant Halloran, his Admin sergeant, along to be Buffy's Admin sergeant which I thought was a real nice gesture, I knew how good Halloran was. They were all headed down to Eglin on the Florida pan handle where the group was assembling.

We had gotten one other man from our old group, Corporal Markoff, he was an okay ground crewman but he was really an artist, he'd painted the nose art on Buffy's plane and most of the other planes in the group. He'd been sent on orders of the public affairs officer so that Buffy's new plane could be painted to match what she'd been flying in England. Buffy's original was a wreck in some field near the Ardennes Forest. I didn't think the PA officer really knew what Markoff had painted on Buffy's plane or he wouldn't have insisted that he be sent. The PA had been all hot about the public relations tour he wanted us to do while we were flying cross country. Fortunately Buffy had gotten most of it cancelled when we were in Washington, there simply wasn't enough time if we were to get the group organized and back to England by the first of the year as General Richardson, CG of VIII Fighter Command, wanted.

The flight back from England had been long and boring but had been in reasonable comfort, the B-17 we'd flown in had been converted to a high speed VIP transport so it actually had some decent seats and was sealed up pretty good, unlike the one we were in now. Then we'd spent three days in Washington, meeting and greeting various VIPs, most of whom had been reasonably cordial if a little skeptical about women fighter pilots. I think the ones that really didn't like the idea had avoided us. The last day the President had pinned the Distinguished Service Cross on Buffy, although it was clear from his remarks that he was really pissed that some Senator was blocking the award of a Medal of Honor to her. He'd also pinned a Distinguished Flying Cross on both of us. Actually it added two oak leaf clusters to Buffy's since they were her second and third time she had been awarded the DFC, I got the DFC and an oak leaf cluster. They had finally gotten around to awarding us the DFCs Major Jenkins had put us up for because of the work we did with our 'Top Gun' school at March Field the previous winter and spring. My second and Buffy's third DFC were for our time with the 611th.

Buffy had had a word with Markoff before he'd left for the west coast; I'd hoped she asked him to tone down the painting on her aircraft but I had my doubts. When Markoff had painted the first version, right after it had been sprung on the squadron that their new CO and XO were women, he had been pushing the bounds of decency. Actually he'd stepped completely over the bounds as far as I was concerned, although I did love the painting it took me a long time to understand why Buffy let herself be depicted that way. The painting was clearly of her, and she was basically nude! Markoff had painted her as an archer, standing with her bow partially drawn and looking for a target. The only clothing she had on was a pair of transparent pants that I referred to as 'Turkish Harem Pantaloons' for lack of a better description. The only thing that kept her from being completely exposed was that he'd drawn the lower part of the bow so that it covered her privates, but just barely. And there was nothing to cover her breasts, not any clothing above her trim waist at all, but at least had had the taste to cover her nipples with her overly long blonde hair. The only parts of the painting that were inaccurate was her hair, she didn't wear it that long, and the size of her breasts. That was the one thing Buffy had complained about, she didn't like being put on display as a 'balloon boobed bimbo', but she'd never voiced that thought to anyone but me as far as I knew. Instead she'd accepted the painting and demanded it be kept waxed and protected, if the guys thought they were going to throw here by playing on her sexuality she was going to throw it right back at them.

What I'd finally realized was that we were interlopers in a male world; our sexuality was going to be an issue no matter what we did or said. Buffy had taken the issue and made it a non-issue by simply accepting the sometimes crude humor the same as any male pilot would and going on from there. Once the men realized that they weren't going to get her goat by trying to embarrass or fluster her, the occurrences dropped to no more than they would for anybody else and maybe even lower, the men really respected her. Plus, she was more than willing to turn the tables on them and make just as crude a joke based on their sexuality as they did on her, which flustered them more than it did her. She told me she'd learned to handle arrogant chauvinists when she learned to deal with Spike, a friend from her old world. Or maybe an enemy, I wasn't quite sure, sometimes she referred to him as a vampire but I didn't know if that was figurative or literal, she'd refused to go into any details about him.

Beyond Buffy's obvious capability as a fighter pilot and leader her ability to interact with the men of our squadron as an equal, never claiming any privileges for herself or me beyond what our rank and position demanded, was what had made it work. In fact she was the most casual CO I'd ever known, outside of work she demanded an informality that was beyond Army norms. She'd told me one time that she knew it was completely out of her men's realm of reality to be led in war by a woman, and that to get over that they had to forget she was a woman and know what she was as a person. She did everything she could to break down the barriers between her and her men, and it had worked! Our squadron was the best fighting unit in the Army Air Force, and our record proved it. Sometimes I just sat back in wonder when I realized that I was part of that, it seemed so incomprehensible except that we did it.

The fact that I was the second leading US, and for that matter Ally, ace in the war also didn't seem possible. But then flying with Buffy all the time it didn't seem much of an accomplishment, she just made it happen. It wasn't that I didn't think what we had accomplished was insignificant, I knew intellectually that it was. But the way Buffy fought and led us, racking up kills was just part of the job. The fact that targets were plentiful and we were flying our asses off also helped.

I felt a tap on my leg and came out of my revere, I looked up at Buffy and when I met her eyes she turned and pointed out of the nose. I looked down and saw the outskirts of LA under us and in the distance could make out the LA airport. The plane was descending quickly now and I heard the whine of the flaps extending and the heavier grinding of the gear going down. A couple of minutes later and we touched down, bounced a little and then settled back down for good.

The plane slowed and then turned onto a taxiway and headed back down the field. In the distance I saw the dark green army hanger at the end of the field, a small crowd standing around watching us as we approached. The pilot brought us in close and then with a burst of throttle swung the plane around so she was pointed out, then the engines started shutting down until they all came to a stop and there was blessed silence. Buffy was up and squirming around, unzipping and struggling out of the heavy sheepskin lined leather flying clothes. I started copying her and in a few minutes we were both down to slacks, shirts and ties. Buffy dragged our duffels out from under the navigator's table and we got out our leather jackets and Officer's caps.

I opened the nose hatch and then stood back as Buffy dropped through it and then tossed out our duffels followed by my cane. I lowered myself through the hatch until my toes touched the ground and then let go. I staggered as my injured leg refused to take my weight and I started to go down. Buffy's strong grip on my arm kept me from falling, after a moment I got my balance and she let go of me and stuck my cane in my hand, "You okay, Barb?"

"Yeah – just stiff from being cooped up for so long."

She nodded in understanding and then turned to the two officers approaching us and came to attention. I followed suit and brought my hand up in salute with her as the senior officer came to a halt and stood stiffly at attention opposite us, Buffy spoke formally, "Good afternoon, Maj… Colonel Taylor!"

I saw the man that had inducted us into the Army, Major Zack Taylor, although he now had the silver oak leaves of a Lieutenant Colonel on his collar points instead of the gold oak leaves like the last time we'd seen him. He returned Buffy and my salutes and then shook his head, "Buffy… what the hell have you been doing!?"

"Following orders, sir!"

He glanced over at me and then back to her and held out his hand to her, "Yeah? I thought the last thing I told you was to stay out of trouble?!"

Buffy grinned sheepishly at him as she took his hand and shook it, "I tried, sir… I really did."

He snorted at her and then turned to me and held out his hand to me, I smiled at him as I took it, "Sir, she actually did… sort of."

He snorted again as he released my hand, "Well, you aren't doing a very good job right now!"

Buffy and I were both startled; Buffy scowled a little, "We haven't been here long enough to do anything yet!"

There were some thumps behind us and I glanced back and saw the flight crew had dropped out of the plane. The pilot and copilot, both 1st Lieutenants, were on the ground and the flight engineer, a staff sergeant, was in the hatch handing out their bags. A few moments later he was on the ground and through a hasty salute at us as he turned to follow the pilots. Colonel Taylor's voice rang out, "Lieutenant!"

The two officers turned around and hastily came to attention; Colonel Taylor glared at them until they finally raised their hands in salute. After a few moments he, along with Buffy and I, returned their salutes and then he said, "Is that the way you normally behave around senior officers?"

The officers reddened but then one, the pilot I thought, responded, "No sir! By your leave, sir!"

After a few moments Taylor gave a sharp node of his head, "Dismissed."

After they had walked out of earshot of us he said, "Do you get a lot of that?"

Buffy shrugged, I shook my head, "Not too much sir, for the most part we're more like something exotic… they don't know quite how to deal with us."

"I'm not sure I know how to deal with you two," the Colonel said, then turned to the young 2nd Lieutenant standing by him, "this is my aide, Lieutenant Rollins."

Buffy held out her hand, "Nice to meet you, Lieutenant."

He stared at her wide eyed for a moment before he took her hand, "It's an honor, ma'am!"

Buffy held on to his hand, not letting go of it, as she turned to me, "Do you think if I got a tattoo across my forehead that said "I AM NOT A MA'AM" it would do any good?"

"I don't think it would fit. Besides, if you think you get stared at a lot now…"

She turned back to him and released his hand, "I'm not a 'ma'am'; sir or Major is preferred."

Colonel Taylor chuckled, "I think the lieutenant here would classify you as exotic."

He reddened a little and I held out my hand to try to ease his discomfort, he took it and gave me a firm shake, "Lieutenant."

"Major."

"So why am I in trouble now?"

"You were supposed to be in dress uniform, with medals."

"Dress uniform!? After riding all day in a fu… freaking B-17!"

The Colonel looked at her coolly for a moment and then turned to me, "You've been working on her, haven't you?"

"I've been trying, sir."

He turned back to Buffy, "That's what I told the PR flacks, they can wait until tomorrow. I imagine all you want right now is a quick shower and a bed."

"Actually, all I want right now is some food… a lot of it. Then I'll take the shower and bed." Buffy turned to me as she finished.

"Food sounds awfully good to me, although if it takes too long I might be asleep by the time it gets here." Despite having spent most of the day cocooned in blankets I still felt exhausted.

Taylor nodded, "I've got you a room, actually a small suite, at the Ambassador Hotel. They've got a decent restaurant but it might be better if you used room service, if some reporter spots you you're liable to get mobbed."

Buffy nodded, "Sounds like a plan, sir."

"My car is over here," he replied as he turned and started toward a Plymouth staff car painted khaki with a large white star on the door.

I turned to get my duffel but Rollins had stepped up and grabbed both of our duffels, "I've got it, ma… Sir."

"Thanks, Lieutenant." I followed Buffy and the Colonel over to the car, they got in the back but I opted for the front passenger seat, it had more leg room and was easier to get into and out of with my injured leg. The Lieutenant put our duffels in the trunk and then got behind the wheel.

Twenty minutes later we pulled up in front of the Ambassador Hotel. A door man stepped up and opened both doors on the passenger side of the car in one sweep, assisted by the fact that the rear door was hinged at the back. I got out of the car using my cane to steady myself. The Colonel got out of the back seat and then Buffy clambered out; she looked around for a moment with her golden blonde hair gleaming in the light from the setting sun; then she clapped her officer's cap onto her head.

I heard a shout from down the street, "That's her!"

I looked down the sidewalk and about twenty or thirty feet away there were a half dozen men, all of them seemed to have large cameras in their hands. They were all looking at us and another one shouted, "That's Summers and Thompson!"

Then they were all charging toward us, flashes started going off as some of them held up their cameras and snapped pictures of us. The Colonel stepped forward and held up his hands as they got close, "Hold it boys!"

The group came to a disorganized stop in front of us, flash bulbs going off occasionally as some of them continued to snap pictures. Others were yelling questions at us.

"Miss Summers, what's it like to be back in the states?"

"Ma'am, how does it feel to kill?"

At first Buffy almost seemed to cringe behind Colonel Taylor, but then she stepped out from behind him as he yelled at the reporters, "Hey guys! How about giving her a break, she's just flown clear across the country!"

"Hold on, I can take a little!" Buffy yelled out as she held up her hand. She looked at the small crowd of reporters in front of her and then glanced over her shoulder to me and gave me a quick look; I stepped up beside her as she turned back to the crowd. "Hey guys, be kind with the pictures would you, I just spent a long time on a plane."

There was a chuckle from some of the reporters and others just waited, I was glad to see they were at least being a little polite. I glanced around and noticed the growing crowd on the sidewalk around us, they were keeping back but stopping to watch what was going on, their curiosity aroused. Buffy concentrated on the reporters in front of us, I saw there were seven men and in the back one woman standing just a bit apart but she had a notebook and pencil in her hands ready to write down anything we said.

Buffy grinned at the reporters, "I'll let you each ask one question, be careful what you ask because if I can't, or won't, answer it you don't get another one!" She pointed to the closest reporter, "You first."

"Ma'am…"

Buffy cut him off, "And I really dislike being called 'ma'am'!"

"Uh… Mi…" He started up again and then stopped at Buffy's scowl, she pointed to the gold oak leaf on her collar point and he tried for the third time, "Major, how does it feel to be the leading ace in the Army?"

Buffy thought for a moment, "I'm proud of my accomplishments, don't doubt that for a moment, but it wasn't just me. It was all the people that trained me, starting with Major Thompson here, and all the people that supported me both in the air and on the ground. All the men in the 89th, and especially the 611th Squadron, are incredible fighters and comrades. I'm sure some of them will be exceeding my score shortly, but I'll be back and I'll see if I can't regain my lead! But it is a team effort; I was the leader and got more targets than most. But everybody, from the ground crew that kept my plane flying to my fellow pilots that fought with me and saved my a… tail more times than I can count; that's what made it possible." She pointed to the next reporter, "Your turn!"

Before he could ask a question the first reporter spoke again, "Thank you, Major."

The second reporter glanced at him and scowled a little, then turned to Buffy, "How did you get credit for such an inflated number? Why did you think anyone would ever believe you shot down any enemy planes much less 63?" He gave her a nasty grin, "What did you really do?"

Buffy went white and then started to flush red, I grabbed her arm but she shrugged my hand off as she took a half step forward, he cringed a little under her glare but then she took her eyes off of him and scanned the rest of the crowd, "I'm going to respond to that this time, and never again!" She turned her gaze back to the reporter that had asked the questions, "You think I screwed my way to that score? Listen up and listen good! I don't fu… screw some man for anything other than our mutual pleasure. What I do for a living is shoot down airplanes, and I'm da… darn good at it! Better than anyone I know or have heard about! The Army Air Force has determined that I've done it 63 times, that's from them – not me! So if you have any questions about how many planes I have shot down, take it up with them!" She glared at the reporter, "And the next time you ask me such an insulting question I'm going to rip your head off and shove it so far up your ass you're going to need a glass navel to see out!"

She turned to the next reporter, "Do you think you can ask a civil question?"

He was silent for a moment, and then asked, "Do you really think it's a woman's place to be on the front lines?"

Buffy paused and looked over the crowd, "I don't think it's anybody's place to be on the front lines, but we don't have a choice do we? Somebody has to be there and I think that it is the place of whoever can do the job the best. I think more men have that ability than women, because of the way they are, because of the way they are raised, but that doesn't mean that there aren't women who do have the ability. And I think it is incredibly stupid to ignore that pool of talent, any pool of talent, that will help us win this war as fast and at the lowest cost we possibly can. To do otherwise is not just stupid, it's evil! Because it means more people are going to lose their lives, more people are going to be injured; more time is going to be wasted on this foolishness than is necessary. Whoever is the best, whether a man or a woman, should be doing the job."

There was silence for several moments, and then I heard someone behind us start to clap and glanced back, a young woman with a little girl standing beside her was clapping her hands. Soon the people around her joined in and it was several minutes before they came to a stop, Buffy had turned around and in the silence she spoke softly but loud enough for the young woman to hear, "Thank you."

She nodded at Buffy, "No, we should be thanking you."

Buffy shook her head and squatted down; she looked at the young girl, around ten I would guess, "What's your name?"

The girl looked at Buffy wide eyed and clutched at her mother's skirt, but then she said in a clear voice, "Mary."

"What do you want to do when you grow up?"

"I want to be a fighter pilot! Just like you!"

Buffy smiled at her and held out her hand, the little girl came forward and reached out and took Buffy's hand, "It's nice to meet you, Mary. I hope you don't ever have to be a fighter pilot like me, I have to do a lot of things I would rather not do. But remember, you can do… you can be anything you want to be."

Buffy let go of the girl's hand and stood back up and turned back to the reporters in front of us, she glanced at them and pointed to the next one, "Your question?"

"What's it like to kill?"

Buffy looked at him for a moment, "Don't like the easy questions, do you?" He shook his head and waited, "Its bad… it's not something I like to do. But I can live with what I have to do and unfortunately at this time it is necessary."

She continued to answer the reporter's questions, I noticed Colonel Taylor looking at her and then his eye caught mine; he gave a quick nod of approval. Finally she pointed to the woman at the back, "Okay, you've got the last question."

The woman seemed caught off guard, maybe she'd expected to be ignored? But after a moment she asked, "Are you a lesbian?"

Buffy started to redden and muttered under her breath, to softly for anybody but me and the Colonel to hear, "What the hell happened to don't ask, don't tell?" Then she shook her head and spoke in her normal voice, "No. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, but now I need to leave you. As you can see I desperately need my beauty rest."

With that she turned to the hotel and led us in, the doormen jerking the door open for her just in time. There was a crowd just inside the doors, they had evidently been watching the goings on out on the sidewalk, Buffy jerked to a stop as she got through the doors. Colonel Taylor stepped in front of her and shouted "Come on people, make way!"

Lieutenant Rollins stepped up beside him with our duffels and the two of them started through the crowd, Buffy and I followed close behind and the crowd parted to let us through. It only took a minute to sign the registration and pick up the keys to our room and then the Colonel led us to the elevators and we got out of the public view.

Forty-five minutes later I was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom drying my hair when Buffy spoke from the door into her bedroom, "Foods here."

I turned and looked at her; she'd taken her shower first while I rested my leg. Her hair was still a little damp but she'd pulled it back in a ponytail and left it at that. In deference to the men out in the main room she'd put pants and a shirt back on, but I noticed she hadn't bothered with a bra, "Buffy?"

She looked at me quizzically, "What?"

"Being a little risqué?" I glanced at her chest and then back to her face.

She looked down at herself, "Jesus! The shirts plenty heavy enough! They've been strapped up for six days, they need a little freedom!"

I couldn't stop myself from giggling a little, "Crazy Slayer!"

She shrugged, "Yeah, so what else is new? Food!"

"Go for it, I'll be out in a couple."

I finished drying my hair and put on a fresh uniform, not bothering with the tie or any of the accouterments that normally adorned it. As I went out into the lounge area of our suite I saw the two men and Buffy were sitting around a table loaded with food but no one was eating. As I came up to the table the Colonel and Rollins both stood up, Rollins came around and held my chair for me. I took my seat and thanked him, when they had resumed their seats I turned to the Colonel, "You shouldn't have waited for me, sir."

He smiled at me, "Buffy and I have already discussed this, we're dropping the formalities for the evening, even Gary here," he said as he nodded at Rollins.

"Yes sir… Zack."

He snorted, "So would you tell me how the little blonde here led a squadron to shooting down more than 200 krauts in less than two months?"

"She has a secret weapon."

"And that is?"

Before I could say anything Buffy spoke up, "I flash my tits and while they're staring at them in utter awe everybody gets a free shot!"

The Colonel stared at her in shock for a moment and I spoke up, "I think she's getting tired of that question."

Buffy glared at me, "I think she's getting tired of everyone thinking there is some magic behind it rather than just working hard at it! And a hell of a lot of luck."

"She's being modest… remember the incident where the cadet got wounded on the gunnery range?"

He nodded, "I read the report."

"Buffy's got an amazing sense of spatial relationships. She can maneuver her flight so everybody has targets. Heck, I remember one time she maneuvered the entire group and at least 50% of us had targets in range when she was done. When you're flying with her it just doesn't seem, or rather it just isn't that hard to get kills."

Buffy snorted loudly and reached for one of the covered dishes, "Let's eat!"

The next morning we were up early and grabbed a quick breakfast before Colonel Taylor picked us up for the ride out to the Lockheed factory in Burbank. Since we were going to be out in public to some extent we were wearing our 'good' flying uniforms, khaki slacks and shirts with a necktie and our leather flying jackets, dress shoes, and officer's cap. In addition to our oak leaves and pilot's wings we also had on our ribbons. Most of the time when we were flying we wore our 'working' uniform, the same khaki's except no ribbons and we usually wore heavier boots and a soft overseas cap that we could stuff in our pocket when we were actually flying.

When we got to the plant we were led into an office complex where we met some of the top company men and the leaders of the P-38 development team including Hall Hibbard and Kelly Johnson. After a while I guess Buffy got tired of the socializing, she asked Hibbard, "Are we ever going to get our planes so we can get to work?"

He looked at her a little startled and then glanced to the other company officials, "Uh… well we were hopping you'd talk to our people… the factory workers we mean… we've sort of set up for it."

"You mean you want me to make a bloody speech?!" She turned on Colonel Taylor, "I thought I'd gotten the public relations crap cancelled!"

"Buffy!" I snapped.

The Colonel scowled at her, "Major, remember your little speech outside the hotel last night? These people are also part of that team that put you in the air!"

Buffy flushed, "Sorry sir," then she turned to the company executives, "I'd be happy… I'd be honored to speak to your people."

A junior executive type came into the room at that moment and went over to Robert Gross, the president of Lockheed, and whispered in his ear. He looked over at Buffy and nodded to her, "You've got your wish Miss Summers, the men are all assembled now."

"Thank you, sir, but it's 'Major' if you don't mind… for some reason 'Miss' just doesn't seem to have the right connotation for most of the things I'm involved in."

He nodded to her, "Fine, Major, if you'll follow me?"

He led us down several halls until we came out into the open area of a huge hanger; in front of us was a platform about eight feet tall. As we went up a set of stairs at the back of the platform the view opened up. It looked like the hanger had been hastily cleared; I could see planes of various types parked on the tarmac outside of the large open doors at the far end of the hanger. On the floor in front of the stage a crowd filled almost the entire area. The stage itself was about ten feet by twenty and there was a microphone on a stand up near the front edge. As we came into view the crowd noise picked up, then some cheers, whistles and clapping started filling the hanger.

On either side of the stage were large cloth covered objects, by the shape visible under the cloth I knew there were P-38s. The planes were parked at either corner of the stage, angled at about forty-five degrees so their noses were pointed toward the center of the hanger. Some light ropes hung down from the ceiling of the hanger high overhead and were attached to the cloth drapes at various points; I guess they were planning on some kind of dramatic reveal of our new planes at some point. Then I noticed Markoff standing off to the side near the plane on the right.

As we walked across the stage I looked over the crowd, it appeared to be mostly factory workers although several other groups clustered slightly apart from the main mass of bodies. Over on the right side there was a small cluster of men more neatly dressed, engineers and managers I imagined. On the left side beside one of the covered P-38s was a cluster of women in skirts and dresses, the secretarial pool I guessed. Behind them were half a dozen more women, but these women were in uniform and all but one of them were wearing leather flying jackets. With a shock I realized I recognized two of them, Helen Carson and Tammy Nelson, they'd been in our advanced training class. Then I realized the one woman in uniform but who wasn't wearing a flying jacket was Sarah Harkens, another pilot from our class.

We stopped a couple feet from the front of the stage and Mr. Gross walked up to the mike and tapped on it, a booming noise filled the hanger and then he spoke into it, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to Major Buffy Summers and Major Barbara Thompson, the leading aces of the war!"

There were cheers and clapping, along with a couple cat calls from the back but they were quickly silenced. Buffy and I walked up beside Mr. Gross and after a moment I started waving at the crowd, I couldn't think of anything else to do. After a couple minutes the noise started to go down and Mr. Gross leaned into the microphone, "Mi… Major Summers, would you mind saying a few words?"

He stepped away from the mike and Buffy moved over in his place. She looked up at the mike; it was taller than her, and then started fiddling with the stand. Suddenly it came loose and the mike slid down until it was about half the height it had been, a loud screech followed by a boom echoing around the hanger as it slid down. Buffy looked sheepishly at it then brought it back up to a good height for her and locked it in place; then she addressed the crowd, "That's why they don't let me work on the planes."

A chuckle went through the crowd along with a smattering of applause. She looked out over the crowd and was silent for several moments. Then she started to speak.

"The first thing I want to say is thank-you, thank-you from the bottom of my heart. Without the magnificent plane you provided me, without all the work and effort you put into her, I wouldn't be alive today." The crowd roared and clapped. Buffy glanced over at me and after a moment I realized what she was silently asking, I nodded in agreement, when they had quieted she continued, "Neither of us would be alive."

"What we've done is important, but what you do is just as important. We couldn't do what we do if you didn't do your job, and do it well! On the last combat flight I made, the one where I was downed, the plane that you people made, the plane that I had flown for over three months and made every single kill in, saved my life! She took a lot of damage but dished out even more, and she still got me back on the ground safe and sound. I asked her to do more than she could and survive, but she did it willingly and sacrificed herself to save me and my squadron mates." The roar of the crowd stopped her, she waited calmly until they quieted and she could continue.

"I know that you work long hours in often trying conditions, but I ask you to please keep up the good work! We rely on you to do our job, and as long as you provide us with the planes, good strong planes, we'll do our job!" Another roar went through the crowd, after they quieted Buffy started again "I'm not much of a speaker and I'm sure you've got better things to do than stand around listening to me make hot air."

This time it was laughter that drowned her out, she smiled and waved at them and when the quieted she finished, "So I think, I hope, I've said enough that you know how much I, how much we all, appreciate your work. I'll let my friend and the best XO and maintenance officer I've ever had take over."

Applause and cheers filled the hanger as she stepped back from the mike and waved me up to it. I stepped up and looked over the crowd, after a few moments they quieted. "She's a liar, she's the speaker not me!"

Roars and cheers and laughs filled the hanger as I turned and looked at Buffy, her hand started to move and I knew she was going to give me the finger. I know my eyes went wide and I jerked my head in a quick negative shake, fortunately she remembered where we were and she just glared at me. I turned back to the crowd and waited for them to quiet, "I really can't add a lot to what Buffy, Major Summers, has already said. Twice your planes have brought me back, both of us shot up, but both times they got me on the ground in one piece. So, thank-you for the great work you do - and keep it up!"

I stepped back from the mike and over to where Buffy was standing. I guess the executives had expected us to talk longer, there was a couple of moments of confusion before Mr. Gross stepped back to the mike, "Well… thank-you for your kind remarks. I guess we should give these young ladies their new planes so they can get back to work!"

He raised his hands slowly up and the crowd roar increased as the cloth drapes covering the shapes on either side of the stage rose toward the hanger ceiling. As the planes became visible I could see their gleaming skin, although they were painted in drab green and brown camouflage colors they had been waxed to the point where they had a deep shine despite the matte finish. The drapes cleared the planes and on the plane to my right I could see in neat script under the cockpit Plexiglas '_**Major Barbara Thompson**_'. Forward of the wing and below the front edge of the canopy were rows of bright red rectangles, a white circle containing a Nazi swastika was in the center of each rectangle. I did a quick count; there were four rows with ten of the flags in each row, and one partial row at the bottom with four more flags.

Then I noticed there was some nose art forward of the flags, my old plane had never had any and I wondered with some trepidation what Markoff had done to me. Almost reluctantly I looked more closely at it; I realized it was a painting of a kid in coveralls and t-shirt, the shoulder length dark, curly hair making it clear it was a girl. Her hand was back and she was getting ready to through something, looking closer I realized it was an orange and another one had already been thrown and was in front of her, the way it was drawn it was clear it was speeding away from her. Her other hand held a couple more oranges ready to be thrown. Below the girl in the same script as my name under the cockpit coaming but twice as large was '_**Barbie Doll**_'. I wondered where he had come up with that when I heard snickering beside me, I glanced at Buffy and she was looking at my plane, barely able to suppress her laughter, her eyes gleaming.

"You want to let me in on the joke?" I whispered.

"Later."

On the other side of the stage there was a rising clamor of wolf whistles and shouts and cheers coming from the people closest to the nose of the other plane. More and more people were crowding in but we couldn't see what was there since it was on the far side of the fuselage. Markoff must have recreated his original work or something like it by the crowd's reaction; I just hoped he hadn't gone too far. Buffy was noticing the same reaction and she scowled a little, and then said sharply under her breath, "He had better have listened to me!"

I tried to cover up my own snicker and Buffy gave me a sharp look, I asked her, "Do you want to go check it out?"

"I guess we better," Buffy responded, I looked back over at her new plane and saw Markoff standing by the port prop, he grinned at us and gave us an 'OK' with his thumb and finger. Buffy turned to the VIPs on the stage and called out, "We're going down for a closer look, but they look like beautiful birds!"

She headed for the back of the stage and I followed her down the stairs and around to her plane. We came up from the rear and ducked under the port wing to come out by the engine nacelle next to Markoff. I looked up at the painting on Buffy's plane, it was almost exactly the same as the one he had done for me on canvas. The painting depicted Buffy looking into the distance, her eyes searching for a target for the arrow she had nocked in the long bow that slanted across her body. She was nude from the waist up but her long blonde hair covered enough of her breasts that the nipples and areoles were concealed. Unlike the first version he had done her breasts were not exaggerated, they were about the same as in reality, maybe they were enhanced a little but it was subtle if at all. She wore a diaphanous pair of baggy pants, Turkish Harem Pantaloons I called them, which did nothing to conceal her flat belly and slim legs, only the curve of her thigh and the position of the lower part of the bow concealed her bush.

The crowd around the nose of the plane had quieted when we appeared, now some chattering and whispering were starting up. Buffy examined it for a couple of moments and then turned to Markoff, "Thank-you, it's beautiful. You've got a good eye, even if I won't pose for you."

There were some laughs and a couple of gasps from those in the crowd closest to us that had overheard her remark. She leaned up and gave Markoff a quick kiss on the cheek and he stammered his response, "It's… It was a pleasure, ma… Major, Sir!"

I heard a snort from behind me and turned and saw Colonel Taylor and Rollins had come out from under the wing; they were looking up at the nose art on Buffy's plane. Rollins was staring open mouthed at the painting and the Colonel's eyes kept darting from it to Buffy and back again. Finally he said, "Uh… well it certainly seems to capture you, Major Summers."

She grinned up at him, "Better than a set of coveralls, sir?"

I couldn't stop myself from snickering as I remembered when she'd taken her first check ride with then Captain Jenkins and she'd changed into a set of coveralls in the hanger and shocked the hell out of the Sergeant who was with her. She had accused both the Captain and Taylor of imagining her without the coveralls, both had vigorously denied it but we all knew she was right.

Taylor looked down at her, "Major… I'm not sure quite how to take that."

She nodded and stepped closer to him, then spoke quietly so only we could hear, "I've got to lead men and no matter what I do or say they are always going to be aware I'm a woman. It's better to just put it out there and let them adjust to it; they have to realize that my sex has nothing to do with my competence. If I tried to hide it or ignore it the sexual jokes and innuendos would just keep growing until they got a response, and that's a response I don't want to have to make. Instead I've found it's better to make a preemptive strike, I've got it and I'll flaunt it when I have to but otherwise it's just something that is."

The Colonel looked at her seriously for several moments and then nodded in understanding, "You're right… the worst thing for an officer is to be ridiculed… you've taken that away by embracing it, haven't you?"

"Yes sir, you could say that." Buffy turned back to her plane and gazed up at it; then I saw her eyes travel back toward the cockpit and I followed her gaze. I had thought the rows of flags on my plane were impressive; the rows on her plane filled the entire area between upper and bottom curves of the fuselage, six rows of ten flags and a seventh row with three more flags.

Some of the Lockheed executives had made their way around to where we were, the crowd moving reluctantly back to let them in. As Mr. Gross came up Buffy turned to him, "Thank-you sir, she's a beauty."

He tore his eyes off the nose art and turned to her, "Uh… Your welcome, mi… Major Summers. I hope she'll be as good as your previous plane. Your corporal is quite an… artist."

"I'm sure she will be and yes he is. Excuse me sir, I'd like to check her out a little closer."

He nodded to her and Buffy turned and ducked under the wing, a moment later I could see her up by the cockpit, leaning into it. After a few moments she stood up and yelled down, "She even smells new!"

I decided it was time to take a closer look at my new plane, as I turned toward her I caught Markoff's eye and jerked my head so he would follow me. We made our way through the crowd and I angled toward the left side of the nose so I could get a closer look at the nose art he had done. I stopped a couple of feet from it and examined the painting closely.

Like I had thought from my distant view the main figure was a young girl in coveralls and a t-shirt, running forward while throwing oranges at some unseen target. The girl had my dark, curly hair and could have been me at that age, although it was a little off from my memory of myself. I turned to Markoff, "Thanks, it's nice, but I don't really get the '_**Barbie Doll**_', it doesn't seem to quite go with it?"

"Uh… yes sir," Markoff stammered, "Buffy came up with it… she seemed to get a real kick out of it but she wouldn't tell me why."

I nodded, "Yeah, she hasn't told me either, but it still doesn't seem to fit?"

Markoff looked around, nobody was close to us - he took a small sketch book out of the side pocket of his coveralls, "Major… Buffy nixed this for now but said I could do it if it was okay with you when we went overseas."

He flipped open the book and I was looking at a picture of me; I was in a sitting position, like I was sitting on the ground. It was a side view and my knees were drawn up and my arms were resting on them, braced to hold the 45 automatic in my hands. The gun had just been fired, flame and smoke jetting from the barrel and several shell casings were in the air. I had a grin a pleasure and there was a gleam in my eye, you felt that whatever I was shooting at was being hit. The problem was that I didn't have a stitch of clothing on; my breasts were just touching the tops of my thighs so my nipples were not exposed. The angle it was drawn from naturally concealed my privates, but the curve of my legs and ass was clearly visible.

I swallowed quickly a couple of times, it was a beautiful picture and very complimentary, but I didn't know if I wanted the world to see me like that. I looked up and saw Markoff was looking at me expectantly, "Uh… It's beautiful but… we'll have to discuss it later."

"Yes sir."

I thought for a moment, "Can you give me a copy? Maybe if I live with it for a while I'll be more comfortable with it."

He grinned at me, "Yes sir, I'll do a little larger format. I'll be able to get in more detail."

I could feel myself redden a little, "Sure… that would be nice."

I turned my attention back to my new plane but my thoughts were swirling through my head. 'Jesus, Buffy, what have you done to me? I'm actually considering having a nude painting done of myself and have it shown where anybody can see it?' I shook my head and concentrated on the plane.


	2. Chapter 2: The Pilots

An hour later the hanger was almost empty, the remaining people going about their jobs except for a couple of mid-level executives or engineers, I wasn't sure which. The big wigs had all left when we had started to check out our planes. Colonel Taylor and his aide had left a little while before, we were going to be flying the planes to March field once they had been serviced and they needed to return to their regular duties.

Buffy and I were standing by the planes as the mechanics went over them one last time, then they'd be rolled out and fueled and we would see if we could get them running. From the slight staining around the exhaust ports I knew they had been started before so I didn't expect any problems.

I looked past Buffy and saw the group of women pilots, led by Helen Carson and Tammy Nelson, walking toward us. I caught Buffy's eye and glanced over her shoulder and she turned just as they came up to us, all of the women came to attention and Helen saluted her. Buffy returned the salute, "Hello Helen, Tammie," glanced over the crowd and saw Sarah toward the back, "and Sarah, I don't think I've met anyone else. Can I help you?"

Helen and Tammy exchanged a quick glance; then Helen spoke up, "We understand you're looking for some pilots?"

Buffy nodded, "Combat pilots, are you volunteering?"

After a moment of silence there were nods from all the women except for Sarah, I thought she'd been dragged into the group against her will. Tammy spoke for the rest of them, "Yes ma'am."

Buffy and I exchanged glances, and then she turned back to them, "We're interviewing candidates, if you've got time we can do that before we leave."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And knock of the 'ma'am' shit; I get enough of that from people I don't know."

It took a couple of minutes but we found an unused office and had the women come in one at a time. They were all stationed at Lockheed as ferry pilots so their service jackets were available, I got them from the Army personnel officer at the plant. He was reluctant to give them to me at first until I showed him the orders authorizing us to recruit female pilots and giving us the authority to review their service jackets.

I'd look over their service records while Buffy talked to them, interjecting questions about anything I found in their records that raised any questions. When we talked to Sarah I was surprised, she'd improved quite a bit as a pilot when she was with our Combat Training Group at March before we all got booted out but I didn't expect that she would be the kind of pilot we would want. Reading through her service jacket I was surprised at both how much flying she'd done and some of the close calls and emergencies she'd dealt with.

Buffy was grilling her pretty hard, I don't think she thought Sarah was what we were really looking for but her responses kept surprising Buffy. Finally I spoke up, "Sarah, why the hell are you volunteering for combat?"

She looked at me in shock, and then turned her eyes to the floor, "Uh…"

"Is it because everyone else is?" She looked up at me and after a couple of minutes shook her head no, "Then why?"

Her eyes glistened a little, "My… my brother was shot down… killed… over Germany a couple of months ago… he was a bombardier…"

"So?" Buffy asked, "Is this some kind of revenge thing?"

She looked mystified, "I don't know… I just think I should do it… I want this damn war over before my little brother has to go off and fight! I can't lose another brother!"

"How about your family losing a daughter?" I asked.

She looked at me wide eyed, "I'm not going to…"

Buffy shook her head, "No matter how good you are you can never say never - I've been killed a number of times, only luck and friends have brought me back."

Sarah looked at her wide eyed, I was wondering how much Buffy was going to say, finally Sarah nodded, "I know… I just know I can do something and I know I'll be alright…"

I still had my doubts, "Why the ladies uniform? Why the hanging back in the crowd?"

She looked at me, "I like skirts! Is there something wrong with that?"

"No, but when you're…"

"When I'm flying I wear pants just like everyone else! I'm not flying today and I'm not doing anything else that requires pants!"

I smiled, "Okay… not the real tomboy type, I can understand that."

Buffy spoke up, "There was another question."

She looked at Buffy, "I wasn't sure this was the right way to get into the group and I didn't want to blow it."

Buffy thought for a moment, "Okay, we'll let you know." I saw her eyes drop and she flushed a little, Buffy relented, "I can't say anything official yet but you'll get orders."

She raised her head and looked at Buffy, then to me and back to Buffy, "Thanks."

Buffy nodded, "Send in the next one."

For the rest of the women it was pretty straight forward, Tammy and Helen and two others were what we were looking for and they wanted in. Of the other three two didn't really want to fly combat, they were just being swept along with the group, they wouldn't be getting orders. The other one did want it but her piloting skills and experience weren't up to it, Buffy told her to try again when she had some more hours under her belt.

By the time we finished the interviews our new planes had been moved out on the apron and fueled, Buffy and I climbed onto our planes to head out. I stowed my duffel and cane in the small luggage compartment behind the cockpit and then stepped into the cockpit and lowered myself carefully to the seat. My injured leg was stiff and it took a little maneuvering to get into the seat without too much pain, but once seated I found it fit me just fine. I hadn't been in a P-38, for that matter I hadn't been in a pilot's seat, since I'd gotten shot up, I took a moment to glance around and reacquaint myself. The instruments were all shiny and bright, not a scratch on her, everything was incredibly clean. I powered her up and then glanced outside, ground crewmen were standing clear of the port engine with a large fire extinguisher, I raised my hand over my head and twirled my finger; I got the thumbs up from the ground crewman to start the engine.

I moved the left throttle to the start detent and pushed the primer button three times and then held down the starter button, the high pitched whine of the starter motor came from the engine nacelle and then the prop jerked, once… twice… and then with a bang and a puff of black smoke it started turning, a moment later the engine was roaring. The ground crewmen shifted over to the starboard engine and I repeated the procedure. In a minute all the instruments were in the green and the engines were idling smoothly, I glanced over at Buffy and saw her looking at me, I raised my thumb and heard her voice on the radio, "Union Tower, Slayer Lead, flight of two P-38s requesting permission to take-off."

"Slayer Lead, Union Tower, you are clear, first for departure, no traffic in the area, winds northwest at 10 to 15, barometer 29.1."

"Roger Union, winds northwest at 10 to 15, barometer 29.1"

Buffy's plane started moving and with a touch of throttle I followed after her, we turned onto the wide runway and set up side by side, and then roared down the runway and lifted off together. As soon as I had her cleaned up I pulled into a loose formation with Buffy. The flight from the Lockheed Plant in Burbank to March Field in Riverside only took about fifteen minutes, but we took the long way around out over the ocean and played with our new toys.

The planes were the new 'G' model with more powerful Allison engines; I could feel the extra power as we threw them around the skies. We had been playing for half an hour, my injured leg only bothering me slightly as I worked the rudder pedals, when we picked up some chatter. After a moment I realized it was from some Navy pilots, probably out from San Diego. It didn't take long for us to figure out where they were and we headed in their direction. After a couple of minutes I saw Buffy wiggle her wings, I looked over at her and she pointed down and ahead of us, it took me a moment and then I spotted four dark dots.

We got a little closer and I could make out the dark blue stubby shapes Navy F4Fs, they were swirling around the sky in a mock dogfight. Then I heard Buffy's voice, "Hey boys, want to play?"

There was a moment of silence and then a voice came back, "Who the hell is that?"

"The Army"

"What the hell?!" The Navy planes had stopped their dog fight and were reforming into a more organized formation.

"I asked if you wanted to play?"

Another voice came on the radio, "There they are, two bogies four o'clock high… they look like Lightnings!"

"Who the hell are you?"

"Just some fighter pilots looking for some fun," Buffy shot back.

"Why the hell not!"

Buffy immediately peeled over and I followed her as she started to dive on the Navy planes, a moment later they scattered, I think they were going to try to pinch us between the two elements but Buffy lead us outside of them and we came back at one element and the other was too far away to support them. We fought them for about twenty minutes, it was apparent that they were pretty green, they kept losing us and then milling around until we bounced them again.

As we closed on them, coming up from behind and below, they hadn't spotted us when Buffy radioed them, "Thanks guys, but we've got to call it quits, it's been fun."

With a somewhat chagrinned sound to his voice their leader radioed back, "Yeah, tired of mopping the skies with us."

"Coming up on your five o'clock," Buffy responded as she brought us up to their level and then closed on their formation, "you've got some good moves you just need some more practice."

We were just coming up on their right side when I saw the pilot's eyes in the plane closest to me go wide behind his goggles; then a new voice came over the air, "Jesus! Look at those flags! That's Summers and Thompson!"

The leader's voice came back, "And who the hell did you think it was? How many female P-38 pilots do you think fly like that?"

I could hear the acidity in Buffy's voice, "More than you think, buddy-boy, and more all the time."

"Sorry Major, no disrespect intended."

Buffy lightened up, "You didn't really do that bad, these are the new G models and I think yours are getting a little dated."

"Yeah, we're supposed to be getting the new F6Fs in a couple of months, these birds were okay in their time but that's sort of passed now."

"Good luck, and give them hell!" Buffy called out as we banked away.

Twenty minutes later we were on the ground at March Field, as we followed a 'Follow-Me' jeep past our old hanger I glanced over, there seemed to be a lot of activity around it. Two P-40s and both the Spitfires we had acquired were on the apron, panels open with ground crewmen swarming over them. On the other side sat four fat bodied P-47s, looking massive next to the slim P-40s and Spitfires.

We followed the jeep to a service area next to the main terminal; a small group of officers were standing in the shade obviously waiting for us. We shut down and got out of our planes; I got my duffel and cane out and then dropped carefully to the ground. A Staff Sergeant was waiting by my plane and reached up and grabbed my duffel; then he raised his hand in salute and I returned it as he greeted me, "Welcome to March Field, Major Thompson."

He emphasized the 'Major' and I looked at him closer; then grinned as I recognized Dunlop, he'd been a newly promoted buck sergeant assigned to us when we'd started the Top Gun school, "I see congratulations are in order Staff Sergeant."

"Thank you sir," he glanced at the plane beside us, "anything she need?"

"Just the normal checks and get her refueled," I thought for a moment, "give her an extra thorough going over - she's brand new from the factory."

"Yes sir," he grinned, "it's a pleasure seeing you again, Major."

I smiled and shrugged at him, "Yeah… it's been an interesting year. I've got to get going but its nice seeing you again. Take good care of her."

"I will sir."

I took my duffel from him and headed over to the group of officers I'd noticed earlier, Buffy was nearly there and I increased my pace as much as I could, we reached the group at the same time. We came to a stop and a Lieutenant Colonel stepped to the front. Buffy and I came to attention and raised our hands in salute; he returned the salute, "At ease, Majors. Welcome to March Field."

"Thank you, sir," Buffy responded.

"I'm Martin, the training coordinator and the General's assistant; Lieutenant General Hitchens would like to have a word with you before you start your recruiting drive."

Hitchens had been the area commander when we were originally here; I'd seen him several times but never met him. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, he'd been in charge when Jenkins had been reassigned and Stevens had been put in charge of the Top Gun school and proceeded to destroy it and try to screw us. Buffy had finally dealt with him by showing him her Slayer side; we'd left the same day to start our new assignment as ferry pilots.

We were quickly introduced to the other officers that had come out to greet us; two were officers we would be working with as we went over the records of the available female pilots attached to the base. The others just wanted to meet us as far as I could determine. Once the introductions were out of the way Martin led us over to a staff car, the three of us got into the back seat and the driver closed the doors behind us.

I glanced over at Buffy, squeezed between me and the Lieutenant Colonel, she shot me a sour expression and her eyes went to the empty passenger seat beside the driver. Army protocol dictated senior officers ride in the back of staff cars, Buffy hated it. Most of the time she called 'shotgun' and got in beside the driver, this time she'd gotten herself trapped. Fortunately it was only a short ride over to the headquarters building.

Martin led us in the building and through a security checkpoint and then up a set of stairs to a long hallway. We walked down the hallway until we were nearly at the end where he turned into a moderately sized office. There were file cabinets covering most of the walls and a couple of desks, one by a door to an adjoining office, the corner office of the building I realized, occupied by a Master Sergeant. The other desk, empty but with a sign reading 'Lt. Col. A. B. Martin' was on the other side of the door we had come in.

The Sergeant looked up as we came in and instantly reached out and pushed a button on the intercom that sat on his desk, he leaned over as he spoke into it, "Sir, they're here."

A voice came from the grey box, "Send them in."

He looked up but before he could get up the Colonel waved at him and walked to the door and gave it a quick rap and then opened it. He stepped aside and motioned for us to enter, I looked at Buffy and she gave a quick nod and we marched into the office with her in the lead. It was a good sized office with windows on two walls; a couch was under one window with a coffee table and couple of club chairs in front of it. On the other side of the room the wall along the corridor was solid with book shelves except for the door to the hallway. The General was behind the large desk in front of the bookshelves, I recognized him from the times I'd seen him before. He was watching us, his expression stern, as we marched up to the desk and Buffy saluted him, "Majors Summers and Thompson, reporting as requested, sir."

After a moment he returned her salute, "At ease, ladies. Take a seat."

There were two straight backed chairs in front of his desk but set slightly to the side nearer the windows, a single chair sat immediately beside the desk on the other side. Buffy and I took the two chairs together, moving them a little more directly in front of the desk. Martin took the other chair and pulled it out and sat down a couple of feet away from us.

The General looked at us for a couple of minutes, he seemed to be concentrating on Buffy; finally he broke the silence, "I'm still not sure if I made the right decision."

"Sir?" Buffy asked, I was just as lost as to what he was talking about.

"When Major Jenkins was reassigned he came to me, evidently with Colonel Robinson's backing, and recommended that you be put in command of the Squadron Combat Training Group."

Buffy's mouth dropped open, "Sir?"

He shook his head, "I thought you were way too junior and the fact that you're a woman… Let's just say that I didn't think it would work; now I think he was right. "

Buffy recovered, after a moment she filled the silence, "Thank you, sir."

"But if I had done that then you wouldn't be where you are now, would you?"

"No sir."

There was silence again as he studied her, "I've had my doubts about the appropriateness of what you are going to be doing ever since I heard about it."

I was beginning to wonder if he was going to be a problem for us, I didn't relish the idea of getting into a conflict with a Lieutenant General. That usually didn't bode well for the Majors involved. Buffy was keeping her expression as neutral as possible, although there was a little gleam of suppressed anger in her eye, "Yes sir."

"I think I might be changing my mind," I could see the trace of surprise on Buffy's face but she quickly covered it up, "I read an article in the paper this morning about you; it contained some quotes you gave some reporters you ran into last night?"

"Yes sir."

"That was a very astute observation about the people who should be fighting," he glanced down at his desk and I saw a newspaper was sitting on it; he began reading from it, _"… I think it is incredibly stupid to ignore that pool of talent, any pool of talent, that will help us win this war as fast and as at as low a cost as we possibly can._" He looked back up at Buffy, "You think women pilots are a pool of talent that shouldn't be ignored?"

Buffy leaned back a little and contemplated the General for a moment and then evidently came to a decision and she gave a sharp nod of her head, "Yes sir. For two reasons, first I think there are many women who will outperform a lot of the men that are going to be put into combat. If they are not used then you're going to have to dig even lower in the talent pool to come up with the pilots to fill the positions. That's going to mean some less capable men are going to be put into combat and in all likelihood get their asses shot off."

There was silence for a moment, the General nodded grimly, "And the second reason?"

"Fairness."

"Fairness?"

"A women is a person, she should the same rights, and responsibility, as a man. To do anything else is to discriminate."

He raised an eyebrow, "Radical equalitarian are you?"

Buffy looked at him for half a minute, "I don't care if a person is male or female, white, black, yellow or red, first they are human beings and they should, they must, be treated equally." She was getting warmed up and I hoped she didn't go too far, "Hell, I don't care if they're green with little horns on their foreheads, as long as they're the best at what they're doing then I want them. I know that everyone is different, I'm more different than most, but everyone should get their fair shot. How far they go, what they accomplish, that is up to their abilities and drive. What shouldn't matter is their sex or the color of their skin, or anything else not having to do with the actual job at hand."

"You don't think the different races have different capabilities?"

She looked at him for a moment and then shook her head, "I don't think so, not at the basic level. I think culture and upbringing can have a lot of effect on the outcome. And I think society's expectations can be self-fulfilling. If you're constantly treating women as children it's not surprising if you end up with a lot of child-women. But I think what actually happens shows that it is not our, women's, true nature; women overcome that treatment all the time. If it was truly our nature then how do you explain the thousands of powerful, independent women out there? Look at Barb for Christ's sake!"

The General looked at her for several minutes, "And you don't include yourself because?"

Buffy looked at him for a moment and then said softly, "Because I grew up in a world where I had to take responsibility for… for damn near everything as a fifteen year old. It wasn't something I wanted but I didn't have a choice."

He looked at her for a moment, "Your background history is a little sketchy, just some remarks about growing up in China the daughter of some missionaries?"

"Yes sir," Buffy responded, refusing to answer his silent question.

He looked at her for a while longer, and then turned to me, "And you share your friend's beliefs?"

"Yes sir," I answered.

He thought for a moment and nodded, "Before I let you go, I did come to my senses and finally got rid of that idiot Stevens who managed to destroy the training program Major Jenkins and you developed. If you have any extra time I'd appreciate it if you would spend some of it with Colonel Martin here, he's going to be trying to get it going again using your original training program. I know he would like to have the chance to pick your brains."

"Yes sir." Buffy said as she turned toward Martin, "Sir, if you're available maybe we could meet after dinner and we could talk as long as you'd like."

He nodded, and then smiled slightly, "Or we could meet for dinner and go on from there."

Buffy shot me a glance and I nodded, "That would be fine sir, shall we meet at the officer's club at 1900?"

He nodded, "I'll bring my soon to be XO, he's handling getting the planes you were using back into shape right now. They were ignored for a long time." He scowled a little, "Although I'll have to admit I've never seen a more thoroughly painted hanger."

Buffy grinned, "Stevens did seem to like his paint, too bad he didn't like to fly."

General Hitchens snorted, "I'll let you get on with your task. I guess we'll all find out how this works out in the end."

"Yes sir," Buffy responded.

We had been on the go for two weeks, traveling through California and then across Arizona and New Mexico and then jogging up to south-eastern Colorado before dropping back down into Texas. We had visited over two dozen airfields where women pilots were stationed, Army Airfields, private factory airfields owned by aviation companies, public airfields that were the hubs of the growing network of the military airlift command.

In all we had identified more than two thirds of the pilots we would need for the group, orders were starting to go out for them to report to Eglin, on the Florida pan handle east of Pensacola, where our group was forming. We had arrived at Avenger Field outside of Sweetwater, Texas early in the afternoon. We had gone through our usual routine, inspect the service records and identify those we wanted to talk to and then spending the rest of the time interviewing them.

We had only found three candidates we thought promising, Avenger was a training base and while there was a class of female pilots nearing graduation we didn't expect to get any from that – they didn't have the experience we needed. Rather, the candidates were instructor pilots assigned to the base, we interviewed them and two had what we wanted and wanted in, the other wanted in but Buffy didn't like something about her. Sometimes Buffy had this inexplicable feeling, whatever it was she followed it whether in taking or rejecting a candidate.

The third candidate we interviewed, Cheryl Hopkins, was one of the ones we accepted; she recommended that we talk to a couple of girls in the class that was due to graduate next week. Buffy didn't want to at first; unlike the women in our classes these women hadn't had significant flying experience before joining the Army. They were coming in as raw as the male recruits. But Cheryl was adamant; she claimed they were the best natural pilots, male or female, that she had ever seen. We had plenty of time, we weren't going to fly out until the next morning, so Buffy told her to find them and send them over.

As we waited in the little office Buffy turned to me, "Barb, I think it's time for you to head to Eglin."

"What?"

"I can handle this; I need you there to start whipping the group into shape. The pilots will start to report in soon, some may already be there."

I thought about it for a moment, it made sense, there wasn't anything we'd been doing that Buffy couldn't handle on her own. I nodded in agreement, "Yeah - that makes sense."

"You can fly directly from here to Eglin, its well within range, and be there tomorrow night. There are a couple more fields to visit here in Texas and then I'll be heading for the northeast and New England."

I knew the rough route we'd laid out, modified as we got word of where the female pilots were actually stationed. The plan called for another two weeks of recruiting, by then we were supposed to have all of the group's pilots selected. We were actually ahead of schedule, we were getting fewer refusals than we had expected. There were some big concentrations coming up next week and I expected we would find the candidates to fulfill our requirements along with the half dozen 'extras' Buffy wanted.

We knew we would lose some people during training, accidents always happened, and Buffy wanted to be able to leave behind the seeds for the replacement pilots we would be requiring once we got into combat. There were officially four squadrons in the group but like most groups one squadron would remain in the States training replacements for the group. Buffy wanted some experienced pilots, pilots that maybe didn't quite have the mental state to be in combat but had the flying skills, in that squadron. She was also going to stash any extras that she didn't think had the experience to go into combat right away but had the talent for it in the training squadron. They would stay behind to build up their experience and help train the new women coming to the group.

I looked at her and grinned, "You aren't just trying to get rid of me so you can get into trouble?"

She smiled back, "I want to get into trouble with you, not without you."

I stuck out my tongue at her and gave her a raspberry, then added, "In your dreams."

She nodded seriously, "Yes, in my dreams… for now…"

I shook my head; I wasn't at all comfortable where this conversation was heading, "Lighten up, Slayer."

Buffy held up her hands, "No pressure!"

"Yeah, right!"

She shrugged her shoulders, "So let's go out and celebrate tonight."

"In Sweetwater Texas?" I asked incredulously.

"It is where we are, there has to be a restaurant or bar of some kind."

"Yeah, I can imagine what kind that some kind is."

"Come on, Barb, live a little!"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Sure, why not."

A knock on the door brought our discussion to a halt, Buffy yelled out, "Come!"

The door opened and two young women came in, they were thin and only a bit taller than Buffy and any curves they had were hidden by the bulky flying coveralls they were wearing. They marched stiffly up to the desk Buffy was using. Each had their caps and a manila envelope in their left hand, as they came to a halt one of them rendered a crisp salute, "Sir, Cadets Cherry McMillan and Sherry McMillan reporting as ordered, sir!"

Besides sharing the same last name, and almost the same first name, they also shared the exact same looks, they were identical twins! I didn't have to say anything so I could suppress the laugh that was trying to escape, Buffy didn't succeed completely, I could hear the giggle as she asked, "Which is which?"

They both glared at her a little; then the one that had spoken originally pointed to herself, "I'm Cherry," she pointed to her sister, "she's Sherry, the younger one."

They looked very young, I would guess they weren't much over eighteen and wouldn't have been at all surprised if they had fudged their birthdays by a year. Buffy looked them over and then stood up and held out her hand, "I'm Buffy Summers, it's nice to meet you."

They were shocked and it took a moment before Sherry took Buffy's hand and shook it, when she tried to let go I saw Buffy grip her hand and hold it for an extra four or five seconds. Then she released it and moved her hand over to Cherry, she gripped it and again I could see Buffy holding on longer than was necessary. Slowly Buffy sat down and then gestured at the girls, "Have a seat."

The two girls sat down and Buffy was silent, she was watching them with the strangest expression I'd ever seen on her face. Buffy didn't usually shake the hands of candidates, maybe when she'd decided to accept someone she would but not when they first came in. After a moment Buffy seemed to bring herself back, she glanced over at me, "Barb, would you take a look at their service records?"

Each girl held the manila envelopes in their hand out to me. I saw the envelopes were sealed and the personnel officer's signature was across the flap. I ripped them open and pulled out the thin service jackets that were inside. I looked through their records, it didn't take long, the girls hadn't graduated from the course yet nor been commissioned so the only things they contained were their enlistment papers along with some background information and the school records. They had both done well academically, 3rd and 4th in their class, and the comments from the flight instructors said they were outstanding pilots.

I looked up at Buffy, "The records look good, what there is of them."

Buffy nodded, she was still gazing at the two girls. Finally she shook herself, "Do you want to do this together or one at a time."

They both instantly chorused, "Together."

Buffy looked at them a while longer, finally she seemed to come to a decision, "Did you two have a Watcher?"

Both girls looked at her and then at each other in confusion, finally Cherry said, "I don't understand, ma'am."

Buffy shrugged, "You two seem pretty connected."

The girls exchanged another glance, their faces clearly showing they were mystified by the questions. I tried to keep my face neutral but I was just as mystified. I dug around in my memory and finally remembered that Buffy had called her advisor Giles a 'Watcher' but what on earth did that have to do with the two girls sitting in front of her? Finally Cherry responded, "It happens when you're twins."

Buffy nodded and turned her attention to Sherry, "How are you going to feel when you see Cherry shot down in flames and hear her screaming in agony over the radio just before she smashes into the ground?"

Sherry went white and I could see her swallow heavily and then try to speak, "I'll… I'll feel like a part of me has just died."

Cherry was glaring at Buffy, "And how are you going to feel when Major Thompson is shot down in flames?"

Buffy looked at her and after a moment gave a sharp nod, "Touché! I'll feel like shit… and I won't be very good company for a long time, but I'll live through it. Will you when Sherry gets killed?"

The two girls exchanged glances; then Sherry spoke, "We'll deal with it if it ever comes to it. We didn't join the Army because we wanted to stay safe."

Buffy looked at them for a while longer, "Cherry, do you wish to volunteer for a combat assignment?"

Cherry shot a glance at Sherry and then turned her attention back to Buffy, "Yes ma'am."

"Even if your sister isn't accepted?"

"Why wouldn't she be accepted if I was accepted?"

"Answer the question!"

Cherry looked over at her sister again, I couldn't see any sign of communication between the two but then they were twins; they could probably do it without us being able to see it. Then she turned back to Buffy, "Yes ma'am."

Buffy turned to the other girl, "Sherry, do you wish to volunteer for a combat assignment?"

"Yes, with or without my sister."

Slowly Buffy shook her head, "Okay… I'm not sure what I'm going to do with you two…"

"Sir?" they asked together.

Buffy put her hands together and rested her chin on them as she leaned back in her chair and contemplated the two girls, finally she said, "I don't know if I'll assign you together or if I'll separate you as much as I can. I can see how you'd work together very well; you've done it all your life. But another part of me wants you as far apart as I can get you so one of you doesn't do something stupid to try to save the other and have both of you end up dead."

"Yes ma'am" they said together.

Buffy nodded curtly to them, "I'll see you in a couple of weeks, in that time I expect you to finish your courses here without any slacking off and I'll expect you to be ready to take your check flights for certification in a P-38. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"And knock off the ma'am shit! I'm not your mother!"

They glanced at each other and I caught Cherry's eye and silently mouthed 'sir', she was quick on the uptake and responded to Buffy, "Yes sir!"

"Now get out of here before I come to my senses and change my mind!"

"Yes sir!"

The two girls got up and practically ran out of the office; before the door completely closed I heard two palms slap together and someone squeal, "Yee-ha!"

I looked over at Buffy and raised my eyebrows, "What the hell was that all about?"

She looked at me for a moment and then shrugged, "They were… are… I don't know the correct terminology but they are a couple of potentials that were never called."

I was lost for a moment and then realized what she was talking about, "They were potential Slayers but were never called?"

Buffy nodded, "They're too old, at least I think they're too old, to be called now. But I could feel the Slayer in them, just barely but it's there."

"And they?"

"They couldn't sense me, they'd never been trained and they weren't called." Buffy was staring off in the distance, "I wonder what would have happened if they had been called? Would they both have been called? I've never heard of twin Slayers." After another couple of moments she shook her head, "Let's get cleaned up and get out of here, find out if there is any place in this town worth going to."

Three hours later we had finished a very good meal and had lingered over desert and drinks in a pleasant hotel dining room on Broadway in Sweetwater, a mile or so from the base. When we'd returned the personnel records to the admin sergeant he had recommended it. The bar on the other side of the lobby was starting to get loud, it sounded like they were planning on having a wild Saturday night.

Across the table Buffy put the last forkful of her third slice of chocolate cake into her mouth and chewed contentedly. It was a somewhat awe inspiring spectacle watching a Slayer eat when she wasn't too concerned about what people might be thinking. She swallowed her last bite and then washed it down with the quarter glass of wine she had left. She put the glass down and then stuck out her arms and stretched, her mouth opened in a massive yawn and she hastily jerked a hand back in to cover it. She looked at me sheepishly, "Sorry, Barb."

I shook my head, "Sometimes I am still amazed."

"What?"

"Never mind… Are you ready to head back to the base?"

She cocked her head toward the bar and listened for a couple seconds and then nodded, "Yeah, not a crowd I really want to get involved with… it sounds like just about everyone is drunk or soon will be."

We paid our check and started out of the building, then I realized I had better make a stop before the mile plus hike back to the base, "Buffy, I've got to make a pit stop."

She nodded, "I'll be outside."

A couple of minutes later I came out onto wide porch on the front of the hotel. I didn't see Buffy right away but there was a boisterous crowd around the door so I went down to the sidewalk and started walking toward the base. I came to the alley at the side of the hotel and still hadn't seen Buffy, I must have missed her on the porch, she was probably on the other side of that crowd, I turned to go back for her.

An arm slammed across my neck from behind and cut off my wind, another hand grabbed my wrist and jerked my arm up between my shoulder blades as the arm around my neck pulled me back against a large body. I started to struggle as I was jerked off my feet, I got my free arm behind me and grabbed some hair and then felt an ear, I grabbed it and twisted it as hard as I could. I heard a grunt of pain and the pressure on my arm increased and pain shot through my shoulder, a voice hissed in my ear, "Stop struggling or I'll break it!"

I wasn't accomplishing against my attacker so I decided to try to play possum until I got a chance. I was being carried backward up the alley and now he turned around and carried me deeper into the alley. He had to be at least six three or four and probably close to three hundred pounds, it felt like was being held against a hard pillow. Under a thick layer of fat there was a lot of muscle, I'd have to be good and he'd have to make a mistake for me to get away. I wondered what the hell he wanted.

A moment later we were past the hotel, the building behind it was only one story instead of the four of the hotel; moonlight lit the remaining length of alley brightly. Over against the brick wall of the building on the opposite side of the alley two men were holding Buffy's arms out to the side as they pressed her into the wall, a third man stood in front of her, a couple of feet away from her. As we came up to the group the man holding me said softly, "Charlie, I've got the other one you wanted."

The man in front of Buffy turned toward me, he was a big man going to fat and he didn't look that old, mid-twenties I would guess. Something about him was vaguely familiar and then Buffy spoke, "Callahan, we've already established you're an idiot, now do you want to let us go or are things going to get nasty?"

At the mention of his name I placed him; he'd been court-martialed and kicked out of the Army for refusing to follow Buffy's orders to stop a firing pass on the gunnery range when she was towing the target sleeve. A student pilot had wandered onto the range and Callahan had ended up hitting him. He was from some well-to-do Texas family and he'd managed to get off without any prison time but the Army had booted him.

Callahan turned back to Buffy, "Oh, things are going to get nasty… for you… I think me and the boys are going to enjoy it. I always figured you had a tight twat, now we'll find out just how tight!"

Buffy glared at him, "Callahan, so help me if you don't let us go this instant you are going to regret it for the rest of your miserable life, however short it may be."

He chuckled, "Oh, I don't think so little lady… I think it'll be the other way around. But I think I'll start with your friend first, she's more my size, besides maybe it'll get you in the mood for it when you see what I've got."

Buffy was still trying to talk her way out of the situation, "Callahan, I'm warning…"

He ignored her as he turned toward me and took two steps and then his hand reached out and grabbed my crotch. I gasped in pain and shock as his fingers gripped me hard, they were moving around and then I could feel him forcing the material of my pants and panties into me as his fingers probed. The man behind me lifted me higher in the air as I started to struggle and pain shot through my shoulder.

I was looking over Callahan's shoulder when I saw Buffy move, she jerked her right arm free and brought it swinging around and buried her fist into the kidney of the man holding her left arm. He arched back as the breath exploded out of him in a huge grunting gasp. Buffy pulled her left arm free and before the man on her right could do more than turn toward her she slammed her fist into his gut. As he bent over Buffy grabbed his shoulders forcing him down even faster, at the same time she brought up her knee into his face, the crunch of bones being smashed could be heard clearly. He flipped out of her grip, going over backwards and crashing to the ground, the back of his head hit the hard dirt of the alley with a heavy thud.

Callahan jerked his head around at the sound, his fingers were still digging inside of me but they stopped moving as he stared at the same thing I was watching. Buffy grabbed the wrist of the man she had hit with her first punch, her other hand grasped his arm near the arm pit and then she spun and slammed him into the brick wall they had been holder her against. There was a hollow thud as he hit the wall followed immediately by a sharp 'crack' as she snapped his arm back, the arm was bent ninety degrees at the elbow, but it was in the wrong direction. Buffy released him and he crumpled to the ground.

Callahan was standing stunned, too shocked by what she had done to move, he was facing me but his head was craned around to watch Buffy. In less than five seconds Buffy had taken two men, each of whom was at least a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than she was, and knocked them unconscious with her bare hands.

Before Callahan could react Buffy turned and took two steps and then planted her foot as her other leg swung forward with incredible speed. The form was perfect for a punt that would go the length of a football field. Buffy's foot came up between Callahan's legs and slammed into his crotch with so much force he was lifted three feet above me, the hand he had in my crotch jerked free. The guy behind me staggered back as Callahan's body crumpled to the ground at our feet.

Buffy stepped up to him as he curled into a ball, his hands going to his crotch as a high pitched, barely audible scream whistled out of him. Buffy paused for a moment and said fiercely, "I warned you that you would regret this for the rest of your life!" She looked up at me and then past me to the man still holding me, the fury plainly visible in her eyes, "If you want to live more than five seconds you had better let her go!" I felt him release me and I staggered as my feet hit the ground; then I caught myself, "Barb, are you okay?"

I nodded and managed to speak, "Yeah, maybe bruised a little…"

Buffy turned back to Callahan, I was surprised he was still conscious, but his eyes were wide with terror as she knelt down beside him. "If I ever see you again you will wish you were dead for many hours before you actually die!"

As Buffy stood up I noticed the crotch of Callahan's light slacks were turning black with blood, I didn't know how much damage Buffy had done but I didn't think he would be fathering any children in the future. Buffy took a step toward me and then her eyes shifted to the man that was still standing behind me, "You better start thinking up one hell of a story because if Barb or I are mentioned in any way I'll come back. And you really don't want me to do that, do you?"

"No ma'am!"

Buffy took my arm and started walking me down the alley. The more I walked the easier it got, but I knew I was going to be bruised and sore for a while. Buffy spoke to me quietly, "Are you okay? Should I call the base and get the duty driver out here to give us a ride?"

I took a couple more steps, it was getting easier with each one, "No, I'll be fine. The exercise is helping."

Buffy nodded, "Barb, I'm so sorry…"

I cut her off, "So help me if you try to apologize for what those goons did I'm going to see how hard I can punch you - Slayer or not it will hurt some!"

It turned out the long walk back to the base was a pleasant experience. There was something about walking along in the cool air under the brilliant stars that was nice. Having a beautiful Slayer at my side who had just saved me from a very unpleasant experience and had administered some rough frontier justice made it just about perfect. Damn it, I thought, I'm falling for the girl beside me. What the hell was I going to do?


	3. Chapter 3: The Group

The checkerboard pattern of dark green fields interspersed with patches of forest opened up below me as I broke through the low overcast at about 2000 feet. I glanced behind me and saw the rest of my squadron, or at least most of them, emerge from the low clouds. I was two planes short because of aborts. But that was better than the 793rd which I saw about a mile in front of us, they had lost 4 aircraft due to aborts. The 795th was in even worse shape, they were 5 short, 4 aborts and one plane that had blown a tire and skidded off the runway on takeoff. From the glimpse I got as had taken off it looked like she had had collapsed a main landing gear which meant there was going to be major damage to the aircraft. I looked behind me and saw the 795th just emerging from the clouds, a quick count assured me they hadn't lost anymore aircraft.

My girls were closing up the formation and I started concentrating on the landscape below us. I recognized a small river flowing by a little village; that meant Spilsby should be about five miles in front of us and just a touch to the north. I checked the squadron; they were all tucked back into our loose combat formation so I banked us slightly to set us on the course home.

We had been operational a little over three weeks but the miserable English weather had limited our missions, this was only the seventh mission in those weeks. And of those seven this was the fourth mission aborted before we even got to the coast of France. I didn't relish the reception I and the rest of the group were going to get from Buffy when we got back, I glanced behind me but couldn't spot her; she was flying with Tammy's squadron today. She was going to be so pissed, and I couldn't blame her, eleven aircraft out of forty-eight, almost a quarter of our group aborting the mission was bad – really bad.

Up ahead I noticed a column of black smoke rising from the ground, a minute later we flashed over a burning wreck. I saw several trucks and a jeep were parked nearby, from Spilsby I was sure, and could make out the tail of a P-38 jutting from the wreck. Shit! Somebody hadn't made it back; it had to be one of the planes that had aborted. From the looks of the wreckage I didn't think whoever it was had made it out. God I hoped it wasn't Sherry or Michelle, my two girls that had aborted. Chatter started up on the radio as people started speculating who it was, then Buffy's voice cut through it, "Silence!"

The chatter instantly ceased. The field was in front of us and we started to orbit as the 793rd went into the landing pattern. Fifteen minutes later we were on the ground and I taxied into my revetment and shut her down. Mac, my crew chief, was up on the wing leaning in the open canopy to help me get unfastened as soon as the engines stopped, "Who went in?" I asked.

He shook his head, "Someone from the 795th, I haven't heard who."

"Did they get out?"

His eyes caught mine, "I don't think so… we didn't see any signs of a chute. Tony said he saw her as she came through the clouds, she was in a spin and one engine was out and the other was racing and she went almost straight in, I could hear the engine racing from inside the hanger."

Damn it! This would be our third fatality since we'd gotten to England. The 793rd and the 795th had each lost one pilot during our fourth mission, the second that hadn't been aborted, when we ran into German fighters for the first time. We'd claimed four kills and three probables and a couple damaged in trade for the two we lost and some damage to three of our planes, including one minor wound but Cherry was already back with us. The scar on her cheek would fade with time, but nobody had a problem telling the twins apart any more.

The Red Cross had confirmed the two we had lost had been killed, one died in the crash of her plane and the other had made it out but died from her wounds. Lord Haw-haw had been upbraiding the AAF for being so desperate that we were sacrificing untrained women. He sort of ignored the fact that the 'untrained women' had shot down more Germans than we lost, but we still didn't like the exchange ratio.

I climbed down from my plane and headed toward the headquarters Quonset. Our field at Spilsby had been put up in record time by the army corps of engineers. On one side of the runway we had three oversized Quonset huts for use as hangers; each was big enough to get four P-38s in them at one time. They were in constant use but even so most of the routine maintenance had to be done outside, not a fun job in the miserable English winter weather. Surrounding the field were the revetments for the aircraft, three sided rectangles of dirt about ten feet high and just large enough to hold a P-38.

On the opposite side of the runway, in gaps between the revetments, were four scattered groups of smaller Quonset huts, the largest group at the mid-point of the runway and opposite the hangers had five of the huts. One hut was the headquarters hut with the group and squadron offices, towering over it was the airfield control tower. Another hut had a couple more offices but was mostly one large room we used for briefings and training lectures. A third hut housed the base supply depot, at least the supplies that weren't stored in the hangers, and of course the ordnance was stored in bunkers at the far ends of the runway. The other two huts were barracks huts for the group officers, the enlisted personnel attached to the group, and the airfield security detachment. The other three groups of huts spaced down the runway each contained three barracks huts that were the quarters for the squadron personnel.

Set back from the runway about 100 yards behind the headquarters huts was the last group of three huts, one was the base kitchen and the other two were the enlisted and officer clubs. There were three large tents that were supposed to be used as mess tents but with the weather so miserable we weren't using them, everyone was eating either in the clubs or back in their barracks.

Each of the barracks Quonset huts had a large room that took up the first two thirds of the hut. Then there were six small rooms, three on each side, for officers and senior enlisted personnel. Each of them could hold two people although Buffy and I and the other squadron commanders each had a private room. At the end of the back end of the building was a single communal head, reached by the hallway running between the small rooms. There were six showers across the back wall, a half dozen commodes down one side and the same number of urinals down the other (grossly underutilized in the female quarters), and a pair of double sided trough sinks in the middle of the room.

The buildings had been thrown up in a hurry and they tended to leak in the soggy weather and they didn't heat well, especially the open barracks rooms, even with the coal stoves going night and day. The hot water supply was limited so most of the time the showers were cold. We had work crews trying to fix the huts, patch the leaks and seal out the drafts and other problems, but the work was going slowly.

The layout was the standard layout the AAF had developed for the airfields it was building all over England. At least that was the way the base was designed, we weren't using them quite that way. The problem was the mixture of male and female personnel. With all the female pilots we took four of the huts and the hundred or so female enlisted were in the barracks rooms of those huts. All the male personnel of the group were crammed into the seven remaining huts, overcrowding the barracks rooms even when we crammed four people into each of the small rooms. I had heard some grumblings among the troops, the men were not happy being crowded together and were starting to resent what they saw as the 'cushy' treatment the female enlisted were getting.

As I walked toward the headquarters building I saw Buffy coming from the other direction, by her stride I knew I was right, she was one pissed off Slayer. Tammy was following a couple of paces behind her, her head hanging down. She was at the foot of the steps when Buffy went through the door, slamming it behind her so hard that for a moment I thought the whole door might come right off the end of the hut. Tammy jerked her head up at the sudden loud noise and stopped with one foot on the step and the other on the ground; I was only about ten feet away from her and reached her before she moved. I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, "Who was it?"

Her head snapped around and she looked at me in confusion for a moment, and then comprehension came to her eyes along with a slight glistening of suppressed tears, "Paula Simpson."

I nodded, one of the pilots with about the fewest hours of anyone except for the twins, "You know she's not really pissed at you."

Tammy looked toward the door Buffy had gone through and then back to me, "Oh yes she is!"

I thought to dissuade her but then shrugged and reluctantly I nodded in agreement, "Okay… but it's not just you…"

"Excuse me sir," a voice said from behind me and I saw Sarah Harkens.

I nodded to her, "Lieutenant," and we moved to the side so she could get past us. Sarah was Buffy's assistant and wingman, officially I was the group XO but Buffy wanted me to spend my time with the squadron so she had Sarah as her assistant and for all intents acting as the XO. When she flew it was as Buffy's wingman, something I thought we would need to change pretty soon. When operations picked up we weren't going to want to be flying both of them at the same time.

She nodded to us as she headed up the stairs and into the building. When we were alone again Tammy spoke before I could, "And she has every right to be pissed at me – five planes out of sixteen aborted and two of them crashed! Jesus, I'm pissed at myself!"

"Tammy, there are going to be accidents… we're flying much too close to the edge, not that we have any choice, but we're going to lose a lot of people to accidents."

"Yeah, but not this bad! I just don't understand what is going on with the squadron… with all the squadrons I think… they just aren't coming together!"

From the Quonset hut I heard Buffy's voice yell out, "Lieutenant! I want all the squadron COs, Gunderson, the squadron maintenance officers and the senior maintenance sergeant of each squadron in my office in… twenty minutes!"

I could hear Sarah respond, "Yes sir!" and then she was coming through the door at a run.

As she came down the stairs I said, "We heard."

"Thank you sir… by your leave?"

"Carry on Lieutenant."

I turned back to Tammy, "Captain, let's go get ourselves some coffee before the shit hits the fan."

Tammy nodded in agreement, "Yes sir."

Twenty minutes later we were all in Buffy's office, Helen Carson the 793rd squadron CO, me, Tammy, First Sergeant Gunderson the group senior NCO, Betty Greene the 793rd maintenance officer, Cherry McMillan my maintenance officer, and Dolores Koenig the 795ths maintenance officer. Trying to be inconspicuous in a corner of the office were Mac, Logan, and Rauch, the senior maintenance sergeants in each of the squadrons.

In reality Cherry and Sherry shared the duties of maintenance officer in my squadron; Cherry was a 'hands on' type and loved to work with the guys learning as much as she could about the workings of our planes. Sherry was meticulous with the paperwork; the two of them worked well together and made a competent maintenance officer. I didn't know, and I wasn't going to ask, how they decided who was coming to this meeting but I figured whoever it was had lost the coin flip or whatever they used to decide. I couldn't imagine wanting to be here.

Buffy was behind her desk, her expression neutral but I could see the anger blazing deep in her eyes. I noticed the sign on the front of the desk, 'Lt Col B. A. Summers' and kept my expression neutral but it still pleased me. Buffy had the group organized and in England by the end of December, we went active the 28th, three days ahead of General Richardson's requested date. The day we went active he was at the field pinning the silver oak leaves of a Lieutenant Colonel onto Buffy, the youngest Lieutenant Colonel in the Army Air Forces. After a couple of minutes of letting us stew she spoke, "Alright people, can someone explain to me what the fuck is going on around here?"

Everybody looked around but no one spoke, finally I decided I had to say something, "Sir, the conditions are tough…"

"I don't care how tough the conditions are! Too many fucking mistakes are being made! Why!"

Gunderson spoke up, "Sir… the squadrons just aren't jelling… people are…"

"People are what?!" Buffy snapped.

"People aren't doing their best… instead they're trying to cover their asses…" Helen put in.

"Why?" There was silence, nobody wanted to respond; Buffy leaned back in her chair and looked at everyone, "Is this experiment going to fail?"

"No sir!" several of us said in unison.

"Then what the hell are we going to do about it? Listen people, I want the truth as you see it, no one is going to jump on you for what you think!" Buffy looked over at the maintenance sergeants trying to be inconspicuous in the corner, "That includes you guys, get over here and contribute!"

Mac looked around and I caught his eye and jerked my head, he stepped out of the corner and the other two came with him. Reluctantly he started to speak, "Yes sir… It's just that…"

Buffy looked at him steadily, "Relax, Sergeant, just say what you think."

"The men… the men resent all the privileges the women get…"

"Go on, Sergeant."

"You… we've got all these junior women, most aren't even PFCs yet. They've got to train them and at the same time they've got the good quarters… they aren't falling all over each other…"

With the damn broken the talk went on for the next twenty minutes but it all boiled down to the same thing, the ground crewmen, in general, thought the women had it easy. The women didn't seem to know how to act, some were flirts and others tried to be 'one of the guys', but however the men acted they seemed to be getting into trouble for behaving inappropriately. I'd seen it a couple times, NCOs chewing their men out or giving them the dirty jobs because of the way they acted around the women. A lot of things came up, some that I hadn't been aware of, but no one was coming up with any solutions, other than everyone needed to keep a better handle on things. I could tell Buffy wasn't satisfied but after a while we'd exhausted the subject, nothing new was being brought up and no one was coming up with any real solutions.

Finally she held up her hand, "Okay people - thank you for your honesty. We're going to have to make some changes around here, this can't continue… I'll have to think on it for a while. You're dismissed."

Before anyone could leave Sarah spoke up, "Sir?"

Buffy looked over at where she had been standing at the side of the office, "Yes Lieutenant?"

"Sir, since everyone's back early maybe this afternoon would be a good time for the Article 15s?"

Article 15s, non-judicial punishment hearings, were held when people did something wrong that didn't warrant a court-martial but were more significant than could be handled by a simple reprimand. Sometimes it also involved having to determine exactly what happened and how it should be handled. I knew it wasn't one of Buffy's favorite duties; in fact she tried to avoid it as much as possible.

Buffy scowled, "How many have we got?"

"I've got paperwork for six, sir."

Helen spoke up, "I've got another one I'd like handled if you're going to do them today sir; the paperwork is in my desk."

Buffy grimaced and shook her head slightly, "Shit… I guess today is screwed up enough as it is, might as well get them out of the way." She glanced at her watch, "Okay, get everybody here at 1300 and we'll get them taken care of."

"Yes sir," we all chorused and headed for the door.

"Squadron COs, I want you here for the Article 15s whether your people are involved or not!" she called out.

Tammy, Helen, and I exchanged a quick look before I turned back to her, "Yes sir."

The Article 15s had gone about as expected, Buffy doling out extra duty to most of the offenders, busting one Corporal back to PFC for sleeping through reveille and missing formation after a wild night at the local pubs. It bothered me that four of the other five cases all involved conflicts between male and female personnel, a couple complaints by women about 'abuse' that amounted mostly to an NCO swearing at them like they would male personnel. Unfortunately calling a female private a 'fucking cunt' had more connotations to it than when the same phrase was used with a male private.

In one case Buffy gave the offender eight hours of extra duty but in the other, a case where the Corporal had been addressing four ground crewmen he'd caught goofing off, of whom one happened to be female, Buffy let him off with a warning and admonished the woman to grow a thicker skin, 'she was in the fucking army now.' I was wondering if Buffy would have even given the first Corporal the extra duty if the two cases had come in the other order.

The last case involved two privates who had been caught peeping into the head of one of the women's barracks and watching a female private take a shower. Sherry McMillan had caught them up on a ladder looking in the sky light. They claimed they were just doing their assigned job, trying to fix some leaks in the Quonset hut's roof, which was true enough. But Sherry had watched them looking through the window for a couple of minutes before she broke it up.

Under Buffy's questioning they admitted that they might have been looking longer than was necessary for a leak they couldn't find, but they maintained they were just trying to do their job. I could tell by their sullen expressions that whatever Buffy did they weren't going to think it was fair. This was going to be just one more thing to drive a wedge between the male and female personnel; I had a feeling most of the men in the group were going to sympathize with them. And the women in the group were going to be indignant about having peeping toms around. In the end Buffy gave the two men eight hours extra duty patching roof leaks but with explicit instructions to advise the Charge of Quarters for any female barracks before they worked on them.

Buffy dismissed us but as we were heading out I heard her talking to Sarah, "Lieutenant, have we got an extra copy of the base layout map?"

"Yes Colonel, I've got half a dozen of them and can get more if needed."

"Good, get me one…" then the door closed and cut off the conversation.

An hour later I was working in my office when there was a rap on my door, I looked up to see Sarah Harkens standing in the doorway, "Sorry to disturb you Major - but the Colonel wants all personnel in hanger 1 at 1600."

"All personnel?" I said glancing at my watch, it was 1530.

"Everybody in the group, sir, you're to make sure your squadron is there."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

There were just over eight hundred personnel in the group in England, another two hundred and fifty or so were stateside with the 796th. Cramming us all into hanger 1 was going to pack it pretty full. I got my jacket and headed out to find my squadron.

Half an hour later and hanger 1 was filling up, the three planes that had been inside it were on the apron in front of the hanger, tarps covering the open panels. The low overcast had dropped even more and it was already darkening, in another half hour it would be night, having the planes out there wasn't much of a risk.

At the back of the hanger a bunch of fifty-five gallon oil drums had been set up, planks laid on top of them and then half a dozen sheets of plywood, creating a raised stage eight feet deep and over twenty feet wide. Buffy was standing on the front edge of the stage looking out over the crowd that was filling the hanger. Beside her a large easel was set up, I recognized it as one of the ones we used for mission briefings; a cloth was covering whatever was on it. There was a murmur going through the crowd as people speculated what this was going to be about.

Buffy's voice rang out, "Gunderson! Is that everyone?"

I heard Gunderson yell back from near the hanger doors, "Almost, Colonel!"

Thirty seconds later a final group of men came running in, shaking water off of their clothes. Gunderson's voice echoed around the hanger again, "That's it Colonel!"

"Close up the doors, First Sergeant!" With a rumble the hanger doors closed the last couple of feet. Even though the hanger was unheated with over eight hundred people crammed into it the chill in the air was rapidly leaving. Buffy called, "Squadron COs, XOs, and Group Department Officers and assistants, up here with me!"

We all clambered up on the stage; soon there were over a dozen of us up on the stage, lined up a couple feet back from the front edge. All of the squadron COs and XOs were women, but the group department officers and their assistants were all male, it was a statement of some kind that when we were up on stage all the women were on Buffy's left and all the men were on her right. And I didn't think it was a good statement, it seemed to emphasize the divisions within the group. Standing beside me was my XO Sally Metcalf; she leaned toward me and whispered, "Skipper, what's going on?"

I shook my head slightly, "I'm not sure, but the CO is not happy."

Once everyone was on the stage with Buffy she turned her attention back to the crowd in front of her. The murmuring quickly quieted until the hanger was almost silent, a good comment on the respect they held her in if she could quiet over 800 soldiers with just her presence on the stage. She looked over the crowd for several moments and then Buffy's voice rang out, clear and amazingly powerful, she was putting quite a bit of Slayer into it, "WHO ARE WE?!"

After a moment there was a feeble yell back "101st!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"101st!" came back again, better but still not great.

Buffy looked out over the crowd, in a strong voice that easily carried throughout the hanger she said, "I talked to every one of you before we came over here. Each of you said you wanted to be a part of this! Do you still want to be a part of the 101st?!"

After a moment a yell came back, "YES!"

Buffy nodded, "People, we've got problems and they have to be solved. NOW! There is no excuse for what happened today! We lost a pilot that we should never have lost! And we had almost a quarter of our force abort before we even got across the channel! I don't know how many we would have lost if we had actually run into some krauts!"

Silence filled the hanger as Buffy paused to survey the room; then she continued, "The problem is that we aren't jelling as a group. The squadrons aren't coming together. We aren't coming together because we are too broken up. That is ending today!"

Again she paused, looking over the audience for a couple of moments. I was watching her closely and she seemed to be steeling herself. The murmur of voices was increasing as she stood there; finally she seemed to brace herself, "SILENCE!" The hanger went quiet, after another moment she said in a voice everyone could hear, "Strip!"

What the hell was asking? Then I saw her shrug her shoulders and let her leather jacket drop to the stage at her feet, the sound of voices was filling the hanger now, people yelling and shouting in confusion. Buffy's voice cut through the din, her voice was so loud it hurt my ears; she was letting her Slayer out, "SILENCE! I SAID STRIP! THAT MEANS STRIP! ANYBODY THAT'S GOT A STITCH OF CLOTHING ON THEM SIXTY SECONDS FROM NOW IS ON REPORT!"

Buffy reached to her neck and pulled her tie away from her throat and then out from under her collar. She glanced at us, standing stunned on the stage beside her, her voice was loud in the silence but not as loud as before, "I said strip! That includes you!"

She was unbuttoning her uniform shirt as everyone stared at her in shock; she stopped undressing, "DAMN IT PEOPLE, I'M THE CO HERE! AS FAR AS I KNOW WHEN I GIVE AN ORDER IT IS TO BE OBEYED! ANYBODY DOUBT THAT?"

Finally I shook myself out of my shock, I had no idea what the hell Buffy thought she was doing but I wasn't going to be the one to abandon her. "NO SIR!" I shouted.

Then I shrugged out of my leather jacket and started pulling off my tie. I tried not to look around as the other people around me started undressing. Buffy turned back to the men on the hanger floor in front of the stage, "MOVE IT PEOPLE! YOU'VE GOT ONE MINUTE TO GET OUT OF THOSE CLOTHES! AND IF YOU AREN'T YOU ARE NOT GOING TO LIKE THE CONSEQUENCES!"

I kept an eye on Buffy as I kicked off my shoes and started unbuttoning my shirt. Thirty seconds later I was concentrating on the floor as I slipped my panties over my hips and let them drop. Quietly I heard Buffy, "Don't act embarrassed, people, you are still their leaders."

I raised my head and looked over at her; she was standing on the edge of the stage with nothing on, looking at us. I glanced down the row of officers beside me and saw everyone was nude, a couple of them were shuffling their feet nervously but they stopped and tried to stand still. I looked past Buffy and saw the male officers on the other side of her were also nude. A couple of them were looking at us appraisingly and I felt myself start to blush, then I realized they were just as nude as I was, I looked back at them frankly and I could see them look away from me.

I saw Buffy turn back to the crowd that filled the hanger and I looked out over it, trying to ignore the fact that I didn't have a stitch of clothing on. I saw a sea of white and pasty flesh, not a very attractive sight and certainly not sexually stimulating in any way. Buffy was standing on the stage facing the crowd, her legs slightly apart and her hands on her hips, she was looking sharply over the crowd. Then her voice rang out, "Sergeant McCauley! Loose those boxers or you're going to be doing KP in your own mess hall."

I followed her gaze and saw McCauley hastily drop his boxers, the senior mess sergeant's body showed his love of food so I couldn't see where it made any difference; the rolls of fat concealed everything.

The sound coming from the crowd was growing; I started to hear some whistles and cat calls when Buffy's voice silenced them, "Listen up people!"

She looked out over the crowd, then took her hands off her hips and pointed to her breasts, "These are breasts! They are considered a secondary sexual characteristic of the human female. You probably refer to them more often as boobs, tits, jugs, melons, or bazooms."

Buffy moved her hand until she was pointing at her pussy, "This is the 'mons veneris' and between my legs is my vagina, these make up the primary sexual characteristic of the human female, you have a lot of other names for it: pussy, cunt, snatch, twat, or bearded oyster." She turned to the man standing beside her, Lieutenant Hickam the intelligence officer, and pointed at his half erect penis, "This is a penis and hanging under it are his balls, the primary sexual characteristic of a human male, I usually call it a cock, although I've been known to use other terms like prick, dick, or joystick."

Buffy turned back to the audience, "Now everybody look around, I'll bet you that every one of you has either one set or the other. Let me know if anyone sees something different!"

There was some mumblings and shuffling in the crowd, Buffy's attention was attracted to some giggles coming from the crowd of female officers off to one side of the stage. I noticed that every female officer except for those of us up here on the stage were clustered together in a circle, all facing inward with only an occasional head turning to look at the men around them. The female enlisted weren't in one group, they were scattered in small groups throughout the crowd, clusters of them in a sea of men.

Buffy evidently didn't like that, her voice cut through the rising murmur, "Squadron officers, inspect your men!" I looked over at her and she quickly turned to us, "Not you, you all stay up here on the stage."

She turned back to the pilots who were all looking up at her, "Yes ladies that means you! Get out there and check your personnel, I want to know if anyone out there doesn't have either a cock or a pussy and breasts!"

Buffy glared down at them and after a moment the group started breaking up, the women moving through the crowd of surrounding men. Buffy watched the crowd for a couple of minutes and then her voice cut through the rising noise; "Is there anyone out there without either a cock or a pussy?"

After a moment of silence several voices shouted back, "No sir!"

"I didn't think so. Now listen up! I'm not standing up hear freezing my tits off because I get off on it in some way. I told you a little while ago that things were going to change around here. The changes that are going to be made mean you are going to be seeing a lot of each other, and I mean that literally. Therefore we're going to have to have some ground rules. I'll warn you right now, if you break these rules you are going to wish you had never heard of me!"

"First – on base no one touches another person's cock, pussy, breast, or ass unless you are treating a wound or injury. Understood?"

After a moment a chorus of "Yes sirs!" filled the room.

"Off base no one touches another person's cock, pussy, breast or ass without explicit permission. If you are in a position of authority over the other person you had better make damn sure that there is not the least hint of coercion, if you can't be absolutely sure that it is mutually agreed upon then keep your hands or whatever other body parts you were going to use to yourself! Understood?"

Another chorus of "Yes sirs!" filled the room.

Buffy looked over the crowd for several moments, "Enough of this show and tell, let's get dressed before things we don't want to lose start freezing and falling off."

Buffy bent over and picked up her panties and stepped into them, I followed suit along with everyone else. I still didn't have a clue what Buffy thought this stunt was going to accomplish. It didn't make any sense to me at all! A couple of minutes later everyone was dressed and Buffy's voice split the rising noise level.

"Eyes on me!" She looked around the crowd until she had everyone's attention, "I said at the beginning of this meeting that the problem as I saw it was that the squadrons weren't coming together because they were too broken up. That ends today!"

She stepped over to the easel that was a couple of feet behind me; she motioned for me and the other people in the area to move down. We cleared the area in front of the easel and she flipped the cover sheet over exposing the diagram of the base. She pointed to the cluster of three Quonset huts furthest from the headquarters building, "These are the 793rds quarters," she pointed to the next group of three Quonset huts, "These are the 794ths,", she moved her finger over to the last group on the other side of the headquarters cluster, "and these are the 795ths. All squadron personnel will live in the quarters assigned to their unit."

A groan went through the crowd, somebody shouted out, "We'll be even more crowded than we are now!" A couple other voices shouted agreement.

"Silence!" Buffy snapped, she pointed to the two barracks Quonsets in the headquarters group, "All personnel attached to the group but not assigned to a squadron will live in these barracks." Buffy turned and face the crowd, "You are not going to be more crowded because the barracks are going to be utilized as designed. Officers will be assigned to the private rooms, two to a room, except for squadron COs who will have a private room. Senior non-coms will be assigned to private rooms as space permits, again two to a room. All other enlisted personnel will be in the barracks room with their appropriate units."

There was silence in the hanger for almost a minute, finally a voice shouted out from the back of the room, "Together?"

Buffy nodded, "Yes, together!"

Somebody else shouted, "But what about the heads?!"

"Personnel will utilize the heads in their assigned quarters, just like always." Buffy looked over the crowd, "The separation of the sexes ends today. From now on you are part of your unit, you eat, live, sleep, shit, fart, piss and anything else you do as part of that unit. That unit is part of a squadron and that squadron is part of this group. There will be no more distinction between personnel based on the sex of the individuals. You are all adults, I expect you to act like it! That means no ass grabbing, tit tweaking, or cock jerking in the barracks!"

"People, we've got a war to fight. We are going to see lots of things that are going to sicken us, terrify us, or simply scare the living shit out of us. There is only one way that we are going to get through it with as many of us surviving as possible, and that's if we're the best we can be. All this bullshit jealousy and in fighting is going to stop right now. What your unit needs from you, what your squadron needs from the units and what the group needs from the all of you is the highest priority. As of this moment the 101st is the most important thing in your lives, don't you forget that!"

"Squadron COs, XOs and senior NCOs, you have one hour to get everyone assigned to new quarters. Everybody else - pack up your gear and get it out of the barracks you are currently in. After the new quarters assignments are ready all personnel will report to their new quarters. All personnel assigned to that hut will then clean those quarters until they shine, COs make sure it is done right! Once your quarters pass your COs inspection you will move into them and square them away. Once your entire Quonset hut is ready you will notify Lieutenant Harkens and I will inspect them, barracks room, private rooms, and heads. If they aren't squared away you will do it again until they are. No one is knocking off today until the move is complete."

"COs, only minimum duty personnel will be posted, all others will be making the move. And make sure you rotate the duty personnel so they can get their personal gear packed, their unit mates will take care of actually moving it. The mess will be open for dinner between 1800 and 2000, make sure your people have time to eat!"

Buffy turned toward us and spoke quietly, "Squadron COs, in my office in five." She turned back to the crowd, "Now get a move on people, it's going to be a long enough night as it is."

Buffy made one last look around the hanger, "101st dismissed!" Then she jumped off the stage and marched through the crowd to the hanger doors. As she neared the doors she passed First Sergeant Gunderson, she said something to him and he followed along behind her. The two of them disappeared in the blackness outside as the hanger erupted in noise.

I stepped up to the edge of the stage and shouted as loud as I could, it didn't reach Slayer levels but it was loud enough to silence the hanger, "SILENCE!" after quiet returned I continued, "YOU HEARD THE COLONEL, GET A MOVE ON!"

The men at the back of the hanger started slipping through the doors. I heard a voice calling up from in front of the stage, "Sirs!" I looked down and saw Sarah Harkens was at the foot of the stage looking up at us, she waited a moment until everyone's attention was on her, "I've got floor plans of the barracks Quonset huts that you can use to do the quarter's assignments."

"Thanks Lieutenant," I said for all of us.

"Then by your leave sir, I'll get to my desk so I can hand them out."

"Dismissed Lieutenant," Sarah turned and headed through the crowd as I turned to Sally, "You find Mac and get a complete squadron roster and the floor plans. I'll meet both of you in the squadron office as soon as the CO is done with us."

"Yes sir," Sally responded.

Five minutes later Tammie, Helen, and I were outside Buffy's office; I gave a sharp rap on the door and heard Buffy's voice, "Come!"

We marched in and came to a stop at the front of Buffy's desk; I raised my hand in salute, "Major Thompson, Captain Carson, and Captain Nelson, reporting as ordered."

Buffy returned the salute, "At ease, girls." She shook her head a little and then yelled out, "Halloran, Gunderson, come on in!"

The two sergeants came in but before they could do anything Buffy said, "At ease everyone, shut the door Sergeant." I glanced over and saw Gunderson come in followed by Halloran who shut the door behind himself. Buffy's office wasn't all that big but the five of us could stand around her desk. She looked at us for a couple of moments before she started.

"I know you all think I'm crazy as mad hatter but this is the only thing I could think of that would change anything in the long run," she shook her head sharply and put up her hand as I started to protest, "Thanks for the support, Barb, but even you think I'm crazy right now."

I didn't say anything but at the same time she knew me well enough that I wasn't fooling her, "I think I'm crazy, but like I said I think this is the only thing that has a chance to really solve our problems. As long as the men and women are separated they will be treated differently, and it will be almost impossible for that treatment not to favor one group of the other. Even if it is exactly equal the perception of the people involved will insure that some feel that it is not fare."

"We can't have that. Not and have us perform to our very best, and anything less than that is unacceptable. For two reasons, first because it means people are going to die that don't have to. And second because if we don't outperform everyone else this experiment will be treated as a failure and we'll be shut down."

"Sergeants, I don't know if you've ever experienced the kind of prejudices we're going to have to overcome to succeed, but it is not going to be easy and it is not going to be fare. Ladies, I know you have experienced it to some degree in your lives; this is going to be ten times, a hundred times, as bad. Especially once we get our shit together and start performing."

"So… on to my little stunt today. I'll apologize this once if I embarrassed you, I'm sorry about springing it on you so unexpectedly, but I felt the shock for everyone needed to be the same. Again with the perception of equality, I think everyone in that hanger realizes, or will when they think about it, that none of you had any more idea of what was happening than they did. That said, what I said up there is what is going to be the rules for the 101st. This is not going to work without your full and complete support, so I'm asking you to give this a chance."

We exchanged some quick glances as Buffy waited for our response, "Yes sir!" we chorused together.

"That means I expect you to lead by example - that means you're going to walk into the barracks head tomorrow morning and step into the shower just like you did this morning." Buffy's eyes swept across Helen, Tammie and I and then settled on Tammie, "It doesn't matter if five of the showers are occupied by your ground crew; you drop your towel and step into the empty shower!" She turned her attention to Gunderson, "and that means if you need to use the head you walk in and use it whether I'm on the commode next to you or not!"

I could see Gunderson swallow hard and give a sharp nod of his head, "Yes sir."

"Listen people, I want you to give this everything you've got for the next month. If it's not working I'll resign and someone else can figure this out, or we'll just call it a mistake and let it die. But I don't think it's a mistake and I think I can make the 101st the best damn fighter group in the world, but I need the organization supporting me to be backing me 100%. The kind of garbage that happened today cannot happen again, ever!"

"Yes sir!" this time our response was immediate, she was right, we couldn't continue to operate as we had been, not if today was any kind of example.

"Gunderson, Halloran, you work with Lieutenant Harkens on the quarter's assignment for the group personnel. Once you're done review it with the department heads, if there are any problems I'll be here."

"Yes sir," Gunderson and Halloran responded together.

Buffy nodded her head, "Dismissed!"

The stormy weather had finally broken five days after the Great Move as it was coming to be known and we had been flying almost daily since then. I didn't know if it was Buffy's changes or the constant ops brought on by the clear weather but the squadron was coming together. The group had lost seven pilots in the past ten days, three killed, two MIA and two wounded but only one of the pilots killed had been the result of an accident, all the rest had been due to the Germans. My squadron had lost one killed and one MIA. The first group of replacement pilots had arrived from the states earlier this week so we were at full strength.

As much as the losses hurt we'd made the Germans pay for their meager success, the group had claimed thirty two kills and nineteen probables. My squadron had claimed thirteen of the kills and four probables.

Today we were on a maximum effort bomber escort mission, unfortunately they had screwed up and we were scrambling to make up for a late departure. The mission orders had called for a 0900 takeoff but just before we headed for the planes Buffy got a call from wing headquarters wanting to know where the hell we were. The bombers had left at 0730, not 0830 as in the orders we had received. We got off as fast as we could but it meant the bomber stream was well ahead of us.

Buffy was leading the group; we only had two aircraft abort so she kept the other three back-up aircraft with her to form an extra flight that was flying with our squadron so we had five flights instead of the normal four. The other two squadrons each had their four flights of four aircraft so there were fifty two of us on the mission.

Buffy had led us in a long climb as we left England behind us; we climbed until we reached an altitude of 36,000 feet, much higher than we normally flew. We had continued to climb until we found a level where contrails didn't form; we didn't want our position marked by long streaks of white cloud pointing right at us. According to the mission orders the bombers were supposed to bomb from 22,000 feet so we were well above their planned level. We had a great view, the winter sky was crystal clear and from this altitude we could see for a hundred miles. Far ahead I could see dirty brown splotches filling the horizon, if our estimates were correct that was the flak over Hamburg where the bombers should be dropping their loads just about know.

Given the bombers early start we were not going to be able to catch them before they reached their target, at least not with enough fuel left in us to matter. So Buffy had decided to meet up with them as they left the target area. We knew from our experiences with the 89th that that was one of the German's favorite times to launch a massive attack. The bombers would be coming off the target with their formations broken up by the flak over the target and the fighter escort would be trying to rejoin the bombers. The fighter groups didn't like going over the target areas with the bombers just to be shot at by all the flak when they knew the German's fighters weren't going to be around. The German fighters didn't like flak any better than we did - a reasonable attitude since flak didn't care if you were friend or foe.

We continued east over the tranquil ground far below us, the landscape covered in white with dark patches of forest breaking through the snow. Our course wove slightly as we avoided any cities and other areas where there were known flak concentrations. So far our flight had been uneventful, we hadn't seen anything or been shot at by anyone. I sat in my cockpit, chilled to the bone and stiff from the lack of activity, the cockpit heater wasn't very effective against an outside temperature that must have been at least minus 70. Small patches of frost had formed in the lower corners of the windscreen, the defroster unable to reach those areas with enough heat to keep it at bay.

"Bandits! Twelve o'clock low!" Buffy's voice cracked in my ear, my head jerked to the front and down, after a few moments I spotted the cluster of dots ahead of us and far below us, heading in the same direction as we were. I couldn't tell if they were German's or our own fighters but Buffy did - her identification of them as 'bandits' and not 'bogies' meant she knew they were Germans. I glanced around at the squadron; planes were dancing and weaving slightly as the pilots tried to loosen themselves up.

The radio remained silent after Buffy's brief call, I was glad to hear the girls maintaining radio discipline. We continued on our course, slowly drawing toward the dots. I estimated there had to be more than a hundred of them down there, I would guess it was an entire German fighter wing; three groups would make it almost 150 enemy planes. I could feel the grin on my face under the oxygen mask; it looked like we would have some good hunting. Buffy's flight was in the lead, my flight off her right wing and slightly behind her, two more flights staggered to the right off and slightly behind mine. The fourth flight of my squadron was off Buffy's left wing.

Buffy wiggled her wings to attract everyone's attention, a moment later two drop tanks dropped from under wings. I flipped up the safety latches and pulled the release leavers on my drop tanks, they were almost empty since we'd been flying on them since we left England. Everyone would have a full load of fuel; we could spend a lot of time fighting and still have gas to get home. I glanced behind us and saw the cluster of dots as the drop tanks fell away from our planes.

We maintained our course and speed for another two minutes and then Buffy's wings wiggled again, then her right wing dropped and she curved into a dive, turning slightly away from the cluster of German fighters ahead of us. I followed her around and she held us on the course for half a minute, our speed climbing as the dive steepened. I glanced behind me to check on the rest of my squadron, everyone was in position. Even further behind I could see the 793rd start its dive, following the same course we were.

Buffy turned us back toward the German fighters, I glanced behind and I was looking right into the sun, she had swung us out until our approach course was bringing us to the Germans right out of the sun, to see us they would have to pick us up out of the glare of the winter sun. Ahead I could see the enemy fighters, it looked like they were all 109s, and they were climbing toward the bomber stream just coming into sight far in front of us. With the bombers in sight I knew where there concentration was going to be, this could be a near perfect bounce if they didn't spot us for another thirty second.

Buffy's voice came over the radio, "793rd hit the second group, 795th hit the lead group but watch for us, we'll be coming up at them from below after we make our first pass. 794th zoom climb as soon as we're through."

Our dive steepened and I we were heading toward the third cluster of German fighters, slightly below and behind the other two groups and a little closer to us. We were closing rapidly when Buffy gave the final instructions, "Yellow flight, shift left and down for your targets!"

The flight furthest to the left dropped below and side-slipped under Blue flight until they were below my flight. Buffy had us aligned on the center of the German group, they still hadn't spotted us and were climbing toward the bombers growing in front of them.

I lined up on the leader of a flight of 109s in finger four formations, their formation matched the one my flight was in and I could see the other fighters in my flight adjusting their position slightly to line up on their targets. The enemy fighter was growing rapidly in my sight, his wing tips spreading toward the glowing outer ring of my gun sight and then touching it. I mashed the machine gun and cannon triggers at the moment he filled my sight and saw the tracers streaking out and dropping slightly, they ended in a compact cluster of sparkling flashes just under his canopy. The enemy fighter staggered under the sudden onslaught of bullets and exploding cannon shells and then there was a bright flash as his ammunition detonated and his plane disintegrated.

I pulled back on my stick slightly to keep above the wreckage and glanced around quickly, two more German's were falling from the sky trailing long streaks of red flame. An ugly black cloud marked another dead German fighter, pieces of if starting to fall fluttering from the smoke, it looked like everyone in my flight had gotten a kill. Further out more German fighters were falling away trailing smoke or flame and expanding clouds of black smoke marked other kills. There were too many for me to get an accurate count but it had to be well over a dozen, I think almost everybody in the squadron and Buffy's flight got a kill.

Buffy was ahead, her flight already climbing for the leading German groups and I slammed my throttles forward to stay with her. The engines roared with the added fuel and I was pressed back in my seat as I zoomed upward. Above and ahead of us the German's were finally starting to react, but they were looking back at us and not at the other squadrons.

I saw the 793rd slash into the second group of German fighters, they were concentrating on the squadron on the right side of the formation and it looked like they got all but two of the enemy planes. One flight dodged frantically at the last second and seemed to manage to avoid the attack. The element of the 793rd that lost their targets maintained discipline and stuck with their flight. The entire squadron zoomed up immediately and hit another German squadron from below in a second attack, and then the entire German group exploded in confusion, planes going every direction. Two Germans managed to turn into each other and collide, the two planes locked together and tumbled toward the earth as one.

I shifted my concentration to the lead group; they were still organized and were wheeling around as a group to come after the 793rd. Unfortunately for them they hadn't spotted the 795th, as they completed their turn and started diving on the 793rd our sister squadron hit their rearmost squadron. Exploding fighters and tumbling wrecks filled the sky behind them and someone must have spotted it because suddenly half of them were trying to turn back again while the other half continued their dive.

We had climbed level with them and now we arced around, some of them had finally spotted us and started to turn toward us but we had our targets selected. The enemy fighter in my sights grew rapidly as he turned toward me but he was still only three quarters of the way around when he filled my sight and I squeezed the triggers. The machine gun tracers marked the flight of the bullets right into his canopy which disappeared in a shower of glass fragments, I could see his body jerking as machine gun rounds slammed into him and then his chest exploded as a cannot shell hit. I let go of the triggers and sat stunned for a moment, that was the first time I had actually seen my fire kill a man.

I shook myself out of my stupor and glanced around, my flight was with me but we had separated from the rest of the squadron. I put us in a steep climbing bank to get back to the fight, as we turned I saw the sky was filled with darting and wheeling airplanes. Smoke trails littered the sky as burning planes plunged toward the ground. Chatter was starting to fill the radio as targets and warnings were called out.

"Blue lead! Break right! Break right!" came one frantic voice.

"Green two, bandit left!"

And then I heard one of the twins, "Red lead, break left!"

I jerked my stick to the left and rolled onto my side as tracers flashed by my canopy, and then there were more tracers from above flashing by my wingtip as I rolled over and dove. As I came around I saw Cherry's plane flashing over me and a 109 disintegrating from her fire. I looked back and my wingman was still with me although the other element of my flight was gone, and then I saw them below me and turning the other direction, two German fighters following them around.

"Red three, bandits on your six!" I sent.

"Not for long!" I heard Sherry shout, and then I saw her flight streaking in from above and behind the Germans, moments later both she and her wingman opened up and the two German fighters staggered under the concentrated fire. Then one of the German fighters was tumbling across the sky, a wing peeling off as it disintegrated. The other German fighter rolled onto its back as flame streamed from its wing root, the canopy fell clear and a moment later the pilot dropped out of the stricken fighter, his body pulled into a ball as it fell toward the earth far below.

I pulled up and looked around for targets, glancing to my rear to make sure it was clear and my wingman was where she was supposed to be. She was there and I could see no Germans behind us. The other element of my flight was climbing toward us and I adjusted my course slightly so she could join up. Ahead I saw a cluster of German fighters that were turning toward some P-38s below us. It looked like there were a dozen or so German's in the group and I started to look around for some help when I heard Cherry's voice again, "Red lead, forming on your left."

I glanced over and saw Yellow flight forming on us and pointed toward the cluster of Germans. I could see her raise her thumb and I shifted back to them. We pushed over into a dive and arrowed toward the Germans. One of their flights spotted us and turned toward us as the others continued their dive toward the P-38s below us.

The P-38s seemed oblivious to the Germans bearing down on them. It looked like an entire squadron in neat formation, but I couldn't think of who that would be. Then I noticed their markings, they weren't from our group. They seemed to be heading toward a group of German fighters that were still on course for the bombers, now easily visible coming toward us. The Germans must be from the lower group that we had hit initially, we had made the one pass through them and wiped out one squadron but the rest of the group we had left pretty much intact.

I would have thought they would get involved with the melee as we concentrated on the other two groups but they were well disciplined, they were going after their primary objective, the bombers, and not letting themselves get distracted by the fighter battle raging above them. I didn't recognize the group markings on the P-38s; they weren't from any group I was familiar with.

In the seconds it had taken me to assess the situation we had closed on the Germans that had turned toward us. I had about two seconds left before I had to commit to dealing with them or try to slip past and get to the ones that were about to bounce the P-38s. Then I heard Sherry's call, "Red lead, slip left, we've got them!"

I glanced to my left and saw Sherry and her wingman diving toward the four Germans that were coming at us. I side slipped my plane and the others followed me. The Germans were stuck, if they tried to turn toward us Sherry would nail them, instead they turned toward her, evidently deciding the liked the four to two odds better. I glanced to my left and saw Cherry was sticking with me, I don't know if I would have been able to let my sister, if I had one, go off against 2 to 1 odds without trying to help her. And then the thought of Buffy flashed through my mind, I hadn't seen or heard her since we hit the second group. I guess I could let my sister go off and fight without having to stick with her.

We were closing rapidly on the Germans below us, it looked like they had target fixation because they weren't paying any attention to us. I spread our formation to match theirs and then concentrated on my target; he was rapidly filling my sight. Then I saw his machine guns start to wink, it was still a little long range but I raised my nose a touch and squeezed the triggers. My tracers arched toward him and sparkling hits covered his wing and he tried to turn toward me to duck under my fire but I shoved my nose down and my fire stayed on him. A red puff of a gasoline explosion erupted from his wing root and then his wing folded back and he was diving toward the ground.

I pulled up and looked back, six more smoke trails marked the death of almost all the attacking Germans, I couldn't spot the eighth 109. Ahead of me one of the Lightning's was trailing smoke and then I saw the characteristic puff of white of the engine fire extinguisher going off and his prop feathering. The rest of his squadron was continuing after the Germans. The Germans were closing on the bombers, machine gun fire from the bombers starting to arc toward them. The other group of P-38s, still oblivious to the near disaster we had just saved them from, stopped their pursuit and dove away, refusing to enter the sphere of fire around the bomber stream. We were too far from the Germans to catch them and I was also reluctant to get too close to the bomber stream, they were supposed to check their targets but with fighters flashing around they usually shot at anything they saw.

I looked around, for all the fighters that had been filling the air just moments ago it was now almost empty. My two flights were with me and I could see Sherry and her wingman heading toward us but still a mile or so away. In the far distance I could make out other small groups of P-38s reforming, but as scattered as we were I didn't think Buffy would try to reform the group. Moments later her voice confirmed my guess, "101st form up with whoever's around and head on home. Anybody damaged?"

I heard a voice, "Green three, I've got an engine out but my wingman's covering me." I didn't recognize the voice but I knew it wasn't my Green three, must be one of the other squadrons.

It was confirmed a moment later when I recognized Tammie's voice, "Blue lead, I've got her spotted, we'll escort her home."

There were no more calls of damaged aircraft. I pulled closer to the fighter that had been hit, as I pulled alongside I could see the other pilot waving frantically at me and pointing at his radio but I couldn't hear him, he must be on a different frequency. I held up my hand and motioned for him to calm down, after a moment he nodded in agreement. I pointed to myself and then to him and then held up two fingers and held them together, and then pointed to the west, he nodded in agreement, we would escort him home.

I started to pull to the side so my flight could form on me when he started waving his hand frantically again. I held up my hand and motioned for him to remain calm, "Blue Lead, would you form up with this guy, Yellow and Red flights will form on you."

I heard Sherry's voice respond, "Roger, Red Lead."

I pulled away from him and my flight reformed on me while Sherry and her wingman formed up on either side of the damaged P-38. Cherry and her Yellow flight formed up on the far side of them and we headed home. Two hours later and we were setting down at our base; the damaged plane had stayed with us all the way home. He didn't try to break off for his home field, I began to suspect he was a newbie and the position he had been flying reinforced it, tail end Charlie in the last flight of his squadron.

Buffy had a different philosophy than most fighter groups; she wanted the newbies up in the lead flights, usually as the Lead wingman, so they would be protected as much as possible until they got their feet wet. We also assigned our personnel differently; tail was the second most experienced flight after the lead flight, there to watch over the others as they learned the ropes.

I taxied into my revetment and shut _Barbie Doll_ down; Mac was on the wing by the canopy as the propellers jerked to a stop. I released the canopy latch and then started disconnecting myself from the plane while Mac opened the canopy and reached in and helped me. I got myself free and stood up, then braced myself against the side of the canopy while a wave of vertigo flashed over me. Mac took my arm and helped me out, "Thanks, Mac. Everybody make it back?"

"Everybody in the squadron, although Sherrell caught a piece of the farm, her plane was pretty shot up and she took a round through the calf. She looked like she was in pretty bad shape when she brought her in but Doc says it was blood loss, the wound itself isn't that bad - she just didn't get a bandage on it. He said she should be back in a couple of weeks. I don't know about her plane, they're still going over it."

"And the group?"

"McKay from the 793rd didn't make it; somebody saw her going down in flames and out of control, no sign of a chute. Lenhardt from the 795th also went down but a couple people reported a chute, with her German and French if she gets clear on the ground she might be able to make it back." I nodded in agreement; Magdalena Lenhardt had been born and raised in Germany until her parents fled to the US in 1933 when the Nazis took over. Despite her Jewish ancestry she was blond and blue-eyed, a classical Aryan beauty, and she had a flair for languages. She had grown up in Kehl across the river from Strasbourg and had learned French from her nanny before starting school. When she came to the US she quickly learned English, she seemed to have a natural flair for languages. She had given several classes designed to help anybody evade capture if they got shot down and I'd heard she was teaching a lot of her squadron mates French or German.

"She's got a shot if she's not injured and they aren't waiting for her when she lands."

Mac nodded, we dropped off the wing and stopped near the tail, "Rooney evidently lost an engine in the fight," that must have been Green three I thought, "and then her second engine packed it in just as she got across the channel. She turned her plane around headed it out to sea before she bailed out."

I shook my head, "That was thoughtful, but awfully risky." I wasn't sure I agreed with her, while it was a nice thought not to have the plane come down on some Brits it was also very dangerous to try to turn a P-38 around with both engines out.

"Yeah, riskier than even she planned, by the time she bailed out she was so close to the coast that the wind carried her out into the channel."

"Shit!"

Mac shrugged his shoulders, "She lucked out in the end, came down next to a fishing boat and the girls watching over her said they saw the fishermen haul her out of the water and she was on deck waving at them when before they came home."

I nodded; it was always rough losing a pilot but I was getting used to it. But anyway you scored it today had to be a great day for the group, three pilots down but at least one and probably two had made it and only one other injury. On the other side of the balance sheet we had thrashed three German fighter groups something fierce, I didn't know what the final count was going to be but I thought it was going to be up near a hundred. A hundred to three was a good score in anyone's book; in an air battle it was almost unimaginable. A perfect bounce and in the massive confusion that followed we had had our way, I just hoped we never got caught like that. "Good. I don't think I caught anything today, Mac."

He glanced at the plane, "Well give her a good going over and I'll let you know."

"Thanks Mac."

When I had left the revetment I headed for the plane from the other group that we had escorted back, she was parked near the closest hanger. As I came up I saw the pilot, a 2nd Lieutenant, standing near the nose of his plane looking at the shot up engine nacelle. A couple ground crewmen were already clearing the wreckage away, there was gas leaking from somewhere and they were being careful, trying to find the leak without creating any sparks. Another ground crewman was standing by with a big fire extinguisher in case something went wrong.

I came up to the pilot, "Lieutenant?"

He snapped around and came to attention when he saw the oak leaves on my jacket epaulettes, his hand snapped up to his forehead, "2nd Lieutenant John Ganfield, Major, 832nd Squadron, 114th Fighter Group."

I returned his salute, "Stand easy, Lieutenant. Welcome to the 101st."

He was looking at me wide eyed, his expression one of bewilderment, "You're a woman?!"

"My, what an astute observation!"

He snapped back to attention, "Sorry ma'am."

I shook my head, "I said stand easy Lieutenant."

He started to relax and then something caught his eye behind me, I turned my head just in time to see the twins, both running full speed, slam into each other. They hugged each other and then Cherry, the scar on her cheek identifying her to me, tilted her head and her lips found her sisters. The girls clung to each other, lost in their own world, as wolf whistles and clapping from the ground crewmen started filling the air.

"McMillans!" I shouted, "Knock it off!"

A moment later they broke their grasp on each other and stepped apart, Cherry ducked her head but I could see her face flush red, "Sorry Major."

I glared at them, inside jealousy was rearing its ugly head, I had wanted to do that with Buffy so many times and yet I knew I could never let that emotion show. The twins came over to us; their embarrassment rapidly disappearing in their excitement, "Good fight, huh Major?" said Sherry.

I nodded, "And a good example of what happens when you don't pay attention."

The two girls exchanged a glance and then nodded in agreement, "Yes sir."

"Would you escort the 2nd Lieutenant to group headquarters?"

"Yes sir," responded Sherry.

I turned back to the 2nd Lieutenant, "Go with the Lieutenants, Ganfield, they'll take you to headquarters and they'll get in touch with your group and figure out how to get you home." I looked up at his aircraft; I could tell it would be at least a couple of days before the damage could be repaired, if it could. It looked like there could be some major structural damage in the wing, we might not tackle it all, either write it off or ship it to a maintenance depot depending on what we found. "I don't think she's going to be flying any time soon."

"Yes sir."

"Don't worry Major, we'll take care of him," Cherry said.

I looked at her a little warily but she just grinned back at me, a matching grin on her sister's face. I shook my head, "Dismissed."


	4. Chapter 4: The Mustangs

The hot August sun beating on the canopy had removed any trace of the chill I had enjoyed when we were at altitude; the cockpit was turning into an oven. I made sure the vents were open all the way and the cockpit heater was off, I could feel hot air coming from it around my feet, I'd have to have Mac check it out, it didn't seem to be shutting off completely. I knew he'd try to get to it but it would be low priority, the constant pace of operations was starting to wear on us.

I led my squadron around the field, waiting for the 793rd to get on the ground. None of my girls had taken any damage today and they were all with me so it had been a good day, improved even more because we had bounced the Germans well. I had three more kills and even better I thought everyone in the squadron had gotten at least one kill, including the two newbies, and most of them had gotten doubles. I glanced behind me and saw the long string of P-38s following along behind me.

As we paralleled the runway I saw the last of the 793rd's fighters set down, whoever it was set down heavy and bounced a good five feet back up into the air. I knew we were all getting exhausted, we had had perfect flying weather for the past six weeks and we'd taken advantage of it, but people were starting to get careless. We needed a break, there were some clouds off on the northwestern horizon, a couple of days of lousy weather would be a god send.

I banked around for my final approach and dropped my flaps and gear and settled toward the runway. Just so I didn't repeat what I'd just seen I was extra vigilant on my approach and greased the landing. As soon as I slowed enough for it to be safe I popped the canopy latch and swung open the canopy. The air was still hot and muggy but it was better than baking in the greenhouse the cockpit became when the canopy was sealed up.

I taxied into my revetment and shut her down, Mac was on the wing next to me by the time the engines came to a stop, "Everything okay, Major?"

"Yeah, I think so. Oh! If you've got time check the cockpit heater, it doesn't seem to want to shut completely off."

"Yes sir, the other damage doesn't seem too bad."

I looked up at him, startled, "Other damage?"

"You've got some holes in your starboard boom and the tail on that side."

I twisted around and still couldn't see anything, then stood up on the seat. From that position I could see a scattering of holes punched through the elevator and then noticed a couple more in the right rudder. I shook my head, "Never even knew I got hit, wonder when the hell that happened."

"Did you get near the bombers?"

"Yeah, I chased an FW-190 past them, got the bastard but not until he shot up a B-17 pretty bad."

Mac nodded in understanding, "I think a waist gunner got a piece of you, the hits look like a single string…"

He trailed off, not having to clarify that the only single guns that were around were the waist and nose guns on a B-17. If the hits had been from a German fighter there would have been multiple tracks of hits and probably some cannon rounds also. I shook my head, "It happens… I really can't blame them they've got almost no time to react and they're just shooting at anything going by."

Mac nodded in agreement, "The Colonel stopped by; she wants to see you as soon as possible."

Buffy had been leading the group today but she had been one of the first to land, so she'd been down a good twenty minutes by now. "I wonder what she wants?"

Mac shook his head, "Haven't a clue, but Halloran was with her."

"Okay Mac, I'll head over there and see what she wants. Make sure one of the twins lets me know the status of the aircraft as soon as they've got it." Cherry and Sherry were still my dual maintenance officer, they handled the job well but had gotten a little possessive about the squadron's planes. They acted like they were their personal property and didn't always bother to update me on the status of the aircraft.

"Yes sir."

As I turned to go to headquarters Fingerly, a brand new member of my ground crew, came trotting up with a bottle of Coke held out to me. It was cold enough that the outside of the bottle was misted with moisture, "Major, thought you might like this."

Before Mac could say anything about the proper way to approach an officer I caught his eye and shook my head slightly, "Thanks, Fingerly, you were right."

He beamed and then remembered what he was supposed to do; he snapped to attention and started to salute, "Sorry, sir!"

I returned his salute, "At ease, private, we aren't quite that formal out here on the flight line."

"Yes ma… sir."

I nodded to the two men and headed off to see Buffy. A couple of minutes later I wrapped on the frame beside her open office door, she didn't raise her head from the paper she was writing on but she gave a sharp reply, "Come… door!"

I stepped into her office and closed the door behind me then walked up to the front of her desk, she continued to write on the form in front of her for another half minute and then she stopped. She looked over whatever it was she had done for several moments and then nodded to herself and sat back in her chair and looked up at me, a grin splitting her beautiful face. "Hi there, Barb."

I smiled back at her, shifting to the casual mode we got to use only on infrequent occasions, "Same to you Buffy," I cocked my head a little and examined her more closely, "You know the paperwork would wait long enough for you to take a shower after a mission."

Buffy's uniform was sweat stained and her hair was matted to her head, pulled back in a messy pony tail the long hair came halfway down her back. I don't think she'd cut it since we'd gotten to England. Red lines on her face still showed from where the oxygen mask had been clamped on it for the last six hours. The outline of her mask and goggles were highlighted by the dark mist of oil and grime that covered the sides of her face.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I could say the same to you… you aren't the freshest I've ever seen you."

I shrugged in return, "My lord and master has summoned me to her august presence, I can but obey such a command."

She snorted and pointed at a chair, "Sit!"

"What's up, Buffy?" I asked as I sat down.

"A couple of things, first off we got word from wing today that we can make some off the chart promotions, brevets for now but they'll accept them and put the paperwork through. If they're approved they'll get the back pay but at least for now they get rank."

Brevet promotions were outside of the normal promotion system. The promotion was also 'temporary' until approved by higher authority, and could stay that way. Once approved by the command, 8th Air Force in our case, the individual would get the pay for their new rank, but they could start wearing the insignia as soon as Buffy told them and if approved they would get back pay back to the date Buffy designated. Eventually the paperwork would work its way back to Army HQ and they would decide if the rank would become permanent or if the person would stay at the brevet rank only as long as they were filling a position that merited an officer of that rank. Or they could throw the whole thing out and order the individual back to their permanent rank, but that almost never happened.

This was the first time we'd been authorized to do brevet promotions, Buffy had put a couple of the girls up for promotion but we hadn't gotten anything official back on them. A lot of the girls had gotten the almost automatic promotion from 2nd Lieutenant to 1st Lieutenant that was supposed to come through a year after they were commissioned, but even those seemed slow, it was more like 15 to 18 months for the girls. I suspected it was bureaucratic resistance from the old boy network back at Army HQ. A couple of the early girls, girls from our class or other classes at the same time, had enough time and seniority that they had made Captain but nobody had gotten promoted to any higher rank.

"How many?"

"Two Majors, six Captains, and all the 1st Lieutenants we want as long as they've got 12 months in, also four Warrant Ones."

I smiled, "It's about time."

Buffy nodded, "I figured Tammie and Helen get their oak leaves and each of you get two of the Captains and one Warrant, the other one goes to Gunderson if he wants it or Halloran if not. I'm trying to get another Warrant so I can promote both of them but I haven't heard back yet. Who do you want to get yours?"

I thought for a moment, there really wasn't much choice but I knew they'd be insufferable for the next week but I was resigned to it, "The twins, of course."

Buffy chuckled, "You realize they're going to…"

I nodded my head so she didn't have to finish what she was going to say. One of them would have gone to Sally Metcalf but she hadn't come back from a mission two weeks before. Along with their duties as the squadron maintenance officer they had been covering as the XO, trading off as they needed to cover their other duties.

"I think Mac should get the Warrant." I thought Mac would like being a Warrant Officer, but I also knew that it would mean he wouldn't be my crew chief any longer; he'd be in charge of all the squadron ground crews and would take some of the load off of the twins. I'd have to think about it but I thought I'd designate Sherry as the squadron XO and let Cherry handle the maintenance, Mac would fill in the gaps that not having Sherry watching over the maintenance paperwork would create.

"Mac's been your crew chief since the 89th; you really want to lose him?"

"He deserves it, besides I don't think I'll lose him completely, he won't let it happen."

"Okay, I'll let Halloran know and get the paperwork filled out; we can have a little ceremony when we get back..."

"Get back?"

She grinned up at me, "Yeah… get back… up for a road trip?"

I looked at Buffy speculatively, "A road trip?"

She nodded, "They're having a conference this evening at 2100 at 8th AF headquarters, all fighter wing COs and XOs are supposed to be there, 'reply by endorsement if unable to attend'."

"I'm not the group XO."

"Yeah, well that's another thing I wanted to talk to you about. Sarah wants into a squadron, she feels she's served her time with me and deserves a break and I sort of agree with her."

I looked at Buffy skeptically, "So I'm losing mine?"

Buffy shrugged, "I'd like you to be the group XO, officially, and turn your squadron over to…"

I thought for a moment, "You really want to create a cat fight?"

Buffy thought for a moment, "I don't really think the twins will be that bad, especially if you make Sherry the CO. Cherry will reign herself in just to keep from undermining Sherry."

I nodded in agreement, "That's true, but the two of them together are liable to get the squadron into some hot water, maybe more than they can handle."

"That's why I was thinking it would be better to separate them a …"

"You have to be crazy!" I couldn't imagine the trouble they would create if we tried to separate the twins, but it would be something terrible.

Before I could say more Buffy held up her hand, "Hold on! I didn't mean separate them that much, I just thought that Sarah could be named the squadron XO, she'd be better at it than Cherry and I think Cherry would much prefer to be the maintenance officer."

I thought about it for a few moments, "Well… it could work… Sarah's going to have to be real tough not to get whip-sawed by those two…"

Buffy nodded, "She can handle it, and she needs to be forced out of her shell a little bit and learn to exert herself, the twins will make sure that happens or they'll walk right over her. So, I'll expect you to keep a close eye on her and give her some friendly advice if she needs it. But I don't think she will, she's been standing up to me pretty well lately, I think she'll do just fine."

I thought about it, I didn't think anyone in the squadron would have a problem with the change in command. The twins were popular and at the same time they were respected for their abilities, even if they were a couple of the youngest pilots in the squadron. They could outfly and out-shoot everyone in the squadron, myself excluded, and the two of them almost always presented a united front. I'd seen them hanging out with Sarah so I knew they got along.

I looked at Buffy and our eyes locked for a few moments, and then I nodded, "Yeah, that sounds like a plan, although I'm not real happy about giving up the 794th."

"I know, and I'm not real happy with what it means for me, either."

I looked at her quizzically, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm going to need you to be more active in leading the group."

"Why?"

Buffy waved her hands at the piles of paper on her desk, "I've got to spend more time running the group. Not that I want to, this stuff is more deadly than flying combat. But I've got to get a handle on it and as long as the weather stays good I'm spending too much time on missions. You're going to have to fill in for me. And we need to get some of the other girls more used to leading the group, Tammy and Helen for sure but also the twins and even Sarah. I also want the squadron COs to start taking a back seat and letting some of their flight leaders lead their squadrons."

I looked at her for a moment, "Buffy, is there something going on that I'm not aware of?"

She shook her head, "Not that I know of, but at the same time they can only keep their heads buried in the sand for so long."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged, "Barb, the 101st is a success, a success that they can't ignore for too much longer. We've got the 2nd highest kill total of any group in VIII Fighter Command, which means any group in the Army Air Force, or any allied command for that matter. And we're making kills at a higher rate than any group, we'll catch the 89th before too much longer and they've got more than half a year lead on us."

"The press is already starting to sniff around, Colonel Miller told me that both Life and the Saturday Evening Post want to do full articles on us and they're running out of patience with VIII Fighter Command. He brought it up because he had two reporters questioning him about us and wanting him to put in a good word for them. When he talked to HQ they told him to squelch it but he didn't think that was going to work for long, they knew too much."

"One of these days the dam is going to break and I don't know what will happen then. I suspect, maybe hope, that when it happens they'll come to their senses and that means we're going to have to start providing leadership for other groups, or new groups. So we have to start thinking outside of our little world, and that means we're going to have start… not start, we're already doing it… but we're going to have to focus more on developing our people."

I thought about what Buffy had said, it was easy for us to just live in the little world we had created here at Spilsby. She was right, at least on one aspect, it wasn't going to remain our own private little world for too much longer. But I was not at all sure that her little scenario was going to occur, I could imagine the alternative also happening. When the press, and the world, found out what was going on here we would all be cashiered as some kind of deviants, it would certainly satisfy the old boy network that didn't like women in the military. I could only imagine the apoplexy they were going to have when they found out we had men and women living together and sharing the heads.

Buffy glanced at her watch, "Barb, we need to get on the road and I'd like to have time to clean up. Can you arrange for a Jeep and get some food put together so we can eat while we're on the road?"

"Yes sir," I nodded and glanced at my watch, it was almost 1530, "Leave at 1600?"

Buffy nodded, "I've got another five minutes to finish off some paperwork before I can leave. You get the Jeep and the food and get yourself cleaned up and I'll do the same."

"What about the twins?"

"Don't say anything specific now; just tell them you'll be gone, maybe all night. We'll wait until the paperwork's done and then have a little ceremony for the promotions and reorganization."

"Yes sir."

Buffy grimaced, "Shoo… and screw the military courtesy on your way out."

I grinned at her, "See you in a bit, Buffy."

It was a long but very pleasant drive mostly through the English countryside to get to Bushey Hall. It was just past eight in the evening when we pulled up, it was still light although the sun was down and it was finally starting to cool off. We found out where the conference was going to be, shades of déjà vu, it was the same ballroom where Colonel Miller's Article 32 hearing had been held. He'd been cleared of the charges of negligent homicide, for the death of one Captain Buffy Summers, in part because she'd walked through the doors into the courtroom.

The room was deserted when we found it so we made our way to the Officer's mess for some coffee and so Buffy could see what kind of snack she could scrounge. The half dozen sandwiches I'd secured for our trip hadn't lasted half way through it, I'd had my share of one sandwich and Buffy had polished off the rest. Sometimes I wondered why nobody in the group seemed to notice how much their 100 pound CO ate. If anybody else had eaten like her they'd weigh a quarter of a ton by now.

We were back at the ball room by five till nine, the place was starting to fill up and denoting our most junior rank we secured a couple chairs at the back of the room. By the time 2100 came around there were half a dozen Brigadier Generals and a couple dozen full Colonels. There was a smattering of Lieutenant Colonels and a couple Lieutenants, but the Lieutenants all wore the insignia of aides, they were here because their Generals were. As far as I could see I was the only Major in the room.

At 2100 sharp a group of senior officers came through the door and Buffy's clear command voice silenced the room "Attention!"

Everybody came to attention while the group of officers made their way to the front of the room, I recognized Lieutenant General Spaatz, the head of the 8th Air Force and Major General Richardson, VIIIth Fighter Command CG. With a shock I realized I recognized the other Major General with them, Doolittle of the Tokyo raid fame.

When they reached the front of the room Spaatz stepped up on the raised stage, "Everyone take your seats!"

There was a rustle as everyone got settled in their seats, covered by the noise I turned to Buffy, "Do you see who's with them?"

Buffy looked at me questioningly, "I recognize Spaatz and Richardson but I don't know the other two star."

"It's Doolittle!"

Buffy looked at the front of the crowd but we couldn't see anything but the backs of their heads in the front row, she turned back to me, "I thought he was in North Africa!"

"I thought so to…"

Our conversation was cut short by Spaatz, "Gentlemen, you've been called here tonight because we must find a solution to the number of bombers we are losing to enemy fighters. We cannot sustain loses at the rate we've been suffering for long. General Morris of VIIIth Bomber Command has proposed a solution to the problem. General."

A slightly pudgy Brigadier General got up on the stage as Spaatz left it and took his seat in the front row between Doolittle and Richardson. Two sergeants came onto the stage from the side carrying a large easel and set it down beside the Brigadier. Once they got it positioned they flipped back the cover sheet exposing a diagram, it took me a minute to realize what was being shown.

After a moment I recognized the major components of the diagram. There were four groups of three large crosses arranged in a diamond pattern; each of the small groups of three formed a small triangle. I recognized it as the standard combat box formation for a heavy bomber squadron. Three groups of twelve were organized into a larger triangle - that represented a heavy bomber group.

On the large sheet of paper were three of the heavy bomber groups, but what was cluttering the paper were groups of smaller crosses. Looking more closely I could make out three groups of sixteen of the smaller crosses; those must be representing a fighter group. The problem was the fighter group was positioned between the bomber groups. They couldn't be serious; mixing fighters in that close with the bombers was silly!

Evidently other people were realizing what the drawings meant; I could hear mumbles and shocked exclamations. I looked at the bottom of the large sheet of paper, I realized that showed the same formations from a side view, the bombers were staggered in altitude as were the fighters, but the three squadrons of fighters weren't above and below the bombers as I would expect. Instead they were shown between the levels of the bomber squadrons.

I heard Buffy mutter under her breath, "Jesus, where did that idiot pull that formation out of…"

A sharp voice cut through the rising murmur, "Silence!"

The Brigadier stepped to the side of the easel and nervously cleared his throat, and then he started to speak.

"We've been suffering much too high a loss rate to enemy fighters because our fighters are not providing adequate protection. I've designed this scheme to maximize the protective potential of the fighters by placing them where they will do the most good. As you can see by this diagram any enemy fighter approaching the bombers cannot reach the bombers without our fighters being able to engage them."

He continued droning on about attack paths and reforming with the bombers between attacks while I sat, stunned by the implications of what he was expecting. He was tying us to the bombers like little kids to their mother's apron strings; we wouldn't be able to respond in any way! After about five minutes he wrapped up with, "Gentlemen, we at VIIIth Bomber Command are sure this will be a most effective scheme and want to work with you to get it implemented as quickly as possible."

The Brigadier stepped back and Spaatz stood up and stepped back on the stage. "Gentlemen, are there any questions about the new defensive arrangements 8th Air Force is adopting?"

I could hear some muttering but no one said anything, after a moment Spaatz continued, "Okay, General Morris has got briefing packets and a training plan outlined…"

I heard Buffy mutter under her breath, "Hasn't anybody in this room got a set of balls beside me?" Then she was on her feet and called out loudly, "General, Sir!"

Spaatz looked startled and it took him a moment to identify who had spoken, then his eyes found Buffy, "Yes Colonel Summers?"

"I have some questions."

"Brigadier, if you don't mind?"

The Brigadier General turned his attention to the crowd, his eyes finally found Buffy, "Yes _Lieutenant_ Colonel?"

I could feel Buffy rankle beside me, the emphasis he had put on the 'Lieutenant' in her rank was clearly meant to cower her, the wrong tactic to use on Buffy, "How are we supposed to defend the bombers when you've got us penned in like sheep waiting for the slaughter?"

"_Lieutenant_ Colonel – If you had been listening during my briefing I clearly explained how you would intercept the Germans, you will be in a perfect position to do so. May I suggest you take the time you need to digest the information and review the briefing packet carefully, I'm sure you'll be able to understand it, it's laid out quite clearly."

I glanced over at Buffy and could see her turning red, "Hold it in, Buffy!" I whispered quietly to her, trying not to move my lips.

I could see her take a couple of deep breaths before she responded, "_Brigadier_ General Morris, if we're flying in formation with the bombers then that means we're flying at 180 to 190 knots, correct?"

"Yes," he sneered a little, "I'm sure everyone knows that is the cruising speed of the bombers."

"And do you know what the speed of the attacking German fighters will be?"

He looked startled; then he was clearly trying to come up with an answer and after several moments he responded, "Somewhat over 300 miles per hour I believe."

"Try closer to 400, and do you know how long it takes for a P-38 to accelerate from 180 to 400?"

"No, _Lieutenant_ Colonel, I do not, but you don't have to accelerate to engage the enemy, they will be coming to you."

Buffy was clearly shocked by his response, "You don't engage enemy fighters when they're going 200 miles per hour faster than you, you try to survive the engagement but your odds aren't very good."

"Miss - I think you should leave the discussion to men who know what they are doing."

The room went absolutely silent as Buffy went white with shock but before she could say anything General Richardson's voice cut through the room, "General, may I remind you that Colonel Summers is the leading fighter ace we have!"

Before anything else was said General Spaatz said sharply, "Attention!"

Everyone popped to attention but I could see Spaatz, Richardson and Doolittle were having a whispered conversation. After a couple of minutes Richardson turned to Buffy, "Colonel Summers, do you have any additional comments or questions on this plan?"

Through gritted teeth Buffy snapped out, "Yes sir!"

"Would you care to present them to the group now or would you prefer to write a position paper."

Buffy only thought for a few seconds, "I believe I can present my concerns in short order and I believe the officers present will be able to understand and make any corrections to my logic that may be needed."

Richardson turned back to Spaatz and Doolittle, it looked like Spaatz wanted to end the meeting immediately but Doolittle said something that made him think, finally he nodded in agreement. Richardson turned back to Buffy, "Colonel Summers, you may proceed."

Buffy slipped out of the row we were in and walked up to the front of the room and onto the stage. Brigadier General Morris had left the stage while Buffy was making her way to it, I saw him move over to where a couple of Colonels were standing to the side and they started talking quietly. Buffy ignored them; she stood at the easel with the diagram and studied it for a moment. Then she turned to the crowd in front of her.

"I've got five basic concerns with this scheme, the first you've heard but I'll try to condense it: Locked into formation with the bombers and traveling at such a slow speed is going to put the fighters at a tactical disadvantage when they attempt to engage an attacking enemy fighter force."

"Second, flying at the bomber's cruising speed is going to significantly lower the effective range of our fighters. For P-38s that is going to be on the order of 10 percent below what we expect when cruising at our optimal efficiency. In addition, if the bombers are above 20,000 feet that speed is very close to a P-38s stall speed, to maintain that for long distance the fighters will have to fly with partial flaps which will make the fuel consumption even worse. As pictured the General has us in tight formation rather than the loose combat spread we normally use, maintaining that formation is going to also adversely affect our fuel consumption."

I could hear some mutterings around the audience as Buffy paused, from the ones closest to me they were agreeing with her. One Colonel directly in front of me whispered to his neighbor, "Our Jugs would be hanging on by their fingertips at that speed." I knew by 'Jug' he meant the new P-47Ds that had started appearing earlier in the year.

"Third, flying with the bomber stream means we've ceded the high ground to the Germans; ceding the high ground in any military operation is a major error. In air combat it is just as much an error."

"Fourth, putting us that close to the bombers is going to significantly increase the friendly fire incidents."

Morris interrupted her, "Lieutenant Colonel, your fighters should be good enough not to shoot at our bombers!"

Buffy turned to him, "I'm not talking about the fighters shooting at the bombers; I'm talking about the bombers shooting at us!"

"I think our gunners can recognize our own fighters!"

"They can when they have the time, but in combat they don't have the time. If they had to stop and make a positive identification every time before they shot they'd be coming home with 90% of their ammunition still on board."

"I can't believe you're trying to… to insult our men like that!"

"I'm not insulting them, I'm just stating the facts," Buffy shoved her hand into her pants pocket and then pulled it back out, she held up a cylindrical chunk of metal about an inch and a half long, one end of it smashed so it bulged out, glaring at Morris she almost spat out, "Do you recognize this?"

There was silence in the room, Buffy gave him a good fifteen seconds but he didn't respond, "This is a 50 caliber machine gun slug, it came from a waist gunner in a B-17 and it damn near perforated me! My crew chief found it when they were repairing the mess it and some of its friends made to my cockpit a couple of weeks ago."

"So, yes, there is always the danger of friendly fire incidents. But having us that close to the bombers and having us maneuver into and out of those positions, especially in the middle of a fire fight, is going to increase the number of such incidents and the loses attributable to them."

"Fifth, as soon as the Germans figure out what we're doing, and it won't take them long, they are going to be cutting both us and the bombers we're trying to protect to ribbons!"

Buffy's attention was focused on Morris and he seemed to cower under her glare. After a couple of moments of silence a new voice sounded across the room, I recognized Colonel Miller's voice immediately, "Colonel Summers, do you have an alternative?"

After a moment Buffy turned to her former CO and contemplated him for a few seconds, then nodded her head, "Yes sir, I've been thinking about how we could improve our escort tactics."

"We've already discussed and approved the new escort plan!" General Morris shouted, "We don't need to hear about some half-baked ramblings of a… of a junior officer!"

Colonel Miller turned on him, "Sir, I've known the Colonel for over a year now. I've yet to hear her propose anything that could be classified as 'half-baked'."

"Gentlemen!" General Richardson snapped, "We're here, now! General, this proposal of yours isn't going down so well with some of our most experienced personnel. Let's hear what the Colonel has to say, because from what she's said so far I'm beginning to have some doubts about how 'thoroughly' your plan was vetted. It doesn't sound like it's been commented on as much as you've lead us to believe."

He turned back to the stage, "Colonel, what's your proposal."

Buffy stood there for a moment collecting her thoughts; then she looked out over the crowd. "The first thing I would do is split the escort into two groups, in bound and out bound."

"That's going to give us half the coverage we've got now!" General Morris shouted.

Before anyone could respond Buffy continued, "No! It will give you about two thirds of what you've got now at any one time, but now you're starting out without cover and usually losing any coverage before you are completely clear of the continent. Fuel restraints are forcing us to head home too early."

"What I would recommend is that the 'in-bound' fighter forces meet up just as you cross into France, the Germans don't seem to like to tangle with us over the water so before that is somewhat redundant. Once with you the fighter force will fly above the bomber stream, about four or five thousand feet would be my recommendation, and about a mile off the flank of the bombers. Because of the higher cruising speed of the fighters we're going to be constantly overtaking the bombers, when a fighter group or squadron gets in front of the bomber stream they turn around and head down the flank, we'll alternate sides so a couple groups or squadrons will always be on either side of the bomber stream. These fighters should be about ten miles out, they'll be positioned to bounce any Germans trying to come in from the flanks and they'll have the altitude to make the intercept at their advantage."

"Any Germans that get through them or come up under the bomber stream of from above will be handled by the fighter groups over the bomber stream. Germans climbing to the bomber stream are going to be at a real disadvantage, they'll be coming up relatively slowly and our guys will be coming down hard and fast. This will take coordination between the fighters, we don't want everybody going for the first German to show his nose and be out of position for the ones following. But that is really no different than what we're dealing with now and it wouldn't be any different with General Morris' proposal."

"The second part of the escort force, the out-bound group, will meet up with the bombers as they come off the target. At this time the in-bound group will be released from the escort duties, those with fuel and ammunition left will sweep ahead of the bombers, looking for Germans trying to come up and attack the bomber group. The out-bound group will be arriving - fresh, organized, and fully armed – at one of the Germans favorite attack positions, coming into the bombers as they leave the target area. If we time it right our fighters will be arriving over their assembly points and will be able to break up any attacks they have planned. Because we'll be arriving together as an organized unit the fighter escort leader can control the number of planes sent down to deal with any Germans spotted and at the same time keep a sufficient reserve to cover the bombers."

"In addition, the in-bound groups can also be vectored in to the Germans if the situation warrants it. I realize this scheme will require tighter coordination between the fighter groups and the bombers but it certainly isn't any more difficult than what General Morris was proposing."

After five minutes of discussion and argument among the various group leaders in the room Spaatz broke everyone up into four groups, each group had both bomber and fighter group COs in it. Each group was given one of four tasks, to argue for or against the two proposals. We were given half an hour to prepare our arguments and then each group presented them. As the groups presented their arguments it became pretty clear there wasn't much to be said for Morris' plan.

The group arguing against Buffy's proposal actually came up with some good arguments and pointed out some potentially dangerous flaws. In the end Buffy was ordered to work with Colonel Uhle who headed that group, a heavy bomber group CO, to hammer out a briefing paper on an improved escort scheme. As the briefing broke up Buffy and I migrated over to a corner with Colonel Uhle.

He looked at us and shook his head and snorted, "Okay, Colonel, how do you want to do this?"

Buffy gave him a hard look for a moment, "Sir, if you'll just forget that my balls are on the inside instead of hanging in the wind we'll get along a lot better."

His eyes went wide with shock as a voice spoke from over my shoulder, "Dick, if you think that's bad wait until she's really pissed off."

I twisted my head to see Colonel Miller standing behind me, "Sir, that is not something that I wish on anybody, it's not a pretty scene."

Colonel Miller stepped up to our group, "Isn't that the truth." As I turned back to the group I saw Buffy's lips tightening, before I could say anything Colonel Miller continued, "Buffy, stow it for a while."

She stopped herself from saying anything immediately, after a moment she responded, "Yes sir, but would someone please tell me what the hell happened? Why on earth was I the one raising objections?"

I saw Miller shoot a glance at the bomber Colonel before he responded, "Spaatz and Morris had most of the senior fighter group COs here this afternoon, we raised most of the same objections you did but they shut us down and told everyone that discussions were over."

"What kind of brain…"

"Colonel Summers!" Miller snapped and Buffy snapped her mouth shut.

After a moment she looked at him steadily, "Sorry sir."

Colonel Uhle entered the conversation, "Okay, Colonel, let's not start our own war. Back to my original question, how do you want to handle it?"

"Sir, if it's okay with you I'd like a couple of days to get some thoughts down on paper. Then I'd like to give them to you and you could review them for a couple of days and then we could get together."

"Sounds like a reasonable plan, I'll get my thoughts down on paper and we can swap them. Where are you based?"

"Spilsby," Buffy responded, "and you?"

"We're at Alconbury."

Buffy nodded, "A couple hours south of us, we went by there on our way down here."

"So we'll exchange papers in a couple of days, say Friday?"

Buffy nodded in agreement, "I'll drop mine off Friday afternoon, late. Then we can get together either Sunday or Monday afternoon depending on operations, sir?"

"Good, I'll be waiting for your paper, Colonel."

I saw Buffy's eyes looking over my shoulder and she started to stiffen and then relaxed, I glanced behind me to see General Richardson approaching our group. Before I could react he spoke, "At ease, gentlemen… ladies and gentlemen."

We opened our circle a little to include him and his aide following along behind, he gave Buffy a long look and then glanced briefly at the rest of us before turning his attention to Colonel Miller, "Have you spoken to Colonel Summers about what we discussed this afternoon?"

"No sir, we hadn't gotten to that."

He turned to Buffy, "Colonel, you've got a decision to make and unfortunately I can't give you a whole lot of time."

"Yes sir."

"We're reorganizing our fighter groups, independently of what is going on here I might add, and we'll be splitting them into two types, tactical and strategic. P-38 groups and about half the P-47 groups will be designated tactical, the other P-47 groups and the new P-51 groups will be designated strategic."

"The tactical units will be primarily utilized as fighter bombers; they're going to be required to do a lot of direct support of army ground units so they'll be spending a lot of time training with ground units and they will also be doing a lot of raids against tactical targets in France and the Low Countries."

It made some sense; the P-38 could carry up to two tons of bombs on each of the two inner hard points on the wing sections between the engines and the fuselage. They could also haul another quarter ton of ordnance, bombs or rockets, on each of the two hard points outboard of the engines. Of course with the hard points filled with ordnance we couldn't carry drop tanks so our combat radius was significantly reduced but we could certainly reach most of western-most Europe. The P-47 could also carry a large amount of external ordnance. The P-51 Mustang was new and I wasn't familiar with her capabilities but she was supposed to be a hot fighter.

"And the strategic organization?"

"They'll be responsible for escort duties and for establishing air superiority over Western Europe."

It looked like we'd be part of the tactical force, but I wondered what he had meant when he said Buffy had a decision to make, Buffy vocalized the question, "It sounds reasonable, but what does that have to do with making a decision."

"We'd like to have more experience in the strategic units, all the P-51 groups are going to be coming over fresh from the States and they'll be green. Colonel Miller has already agreed that the 89th will convert to Mustangs; he recommended that your group be given the same option. After considering it I've come to agree with him, I think it would be best if you kept doing what you've already proven so capable of doing."

Buffy shot me a glance, after a moment I nodded; I'd rather stay up high and deal with German fighters. We had done some low level work but it felt to me like it was a lot more chancy, just like flak you either got hit or not by random chance, how good you were didn't have much effect. I'd never flown a Mustang, for that matter I'd only seen a couple of them, but the rumor mill said they were the hottest thing around.

Buffy turned her attention back to Richardson, "What would be getting?"

"The new 'D' model is in production, we've gotten some shipped over and we're supposed to have over a hundred by the end of the month. They were sent to equip a couple of the new P-51 groups that were going to be shipped over. Instead we're having them stay in the states until more planes come of the production line and then they'll fly them over here. Until then the ground personnel from those groups, that are already here, about half of their compliment, will be assigned to the groups that decide to convert to train them in the care and feeding of the P-51."

Buffy turned to me, although it was clear she was thinking more about the proposal than what she was saying, "Barb, what do you think?"

It only took me a moment to come to a decision, "I think we should switch."

"Because?"

I glanced around at the other officers watching us, "Because we're the best at fighting the German fighters and I think we should keep doing that. Ground attack, tactical support, that's a whole new ball game. I don't doubt that we could do it but I think it's a lot more random, sir."

She perked up a little at the sir and then seemed to come back to this world, she flushed slightly but before she said anything Richardson spoke, "Colonel, if you don't ask for honest answers from your XO you're not a good leader."

Buffy nodded, "Yes sir… We we're friends long before we were in the Army."

He nodded in understanding, "So, Colonel?"

Buffy thought for another moment, then nodded her head, "Yes sir, we'll convert."

Two weeks later I was standing in the shade under the control tower as Buffy swept around the field in the first of the new P-51Ds that we had been assigned. A half dozen more were going to be ready in two days but Buffy had gone down and picked this one up from the aircraft depot. She'd taken down an old P-38 that was on its last legs, we weren't letting it fly combat any more - it had gotten shot up too many times. For now she was going to keep her personal P-38.

The Mustang was a single engine, low wing fighter that looked like it was fast. Unlike our tricycle geared P-38s it was a tail dragger, when it sat on the ground it looked like it was ready to leap into the sky. I hadn't flown a tail dragger since we started flying with the 89th over a year ago, that was going to be an adjustment. When on the ground you didn't have a lot of forward visibility, the long nose slanting up prevented you from seeing anything in front of you. When taxing you spent your time hanging out of one side or the cockpit and then the other so you didn't run into something.

The P-51s were powered by a Packard built copy of the Rolls-Royce Merlin engine. The Merlin was the same engine that had powered the Spitfires we'd flown back at March, although the version in the Mustang was an improved model which produced almost 1500 horsepower; quite a bit more than the Merlins in the Mk IIs had. But it still sounded like a Merlin, I would recognize the powerful throaty howl it produced anywhere.

We had received two earlier B models a couple of days after she'd agreed to the conversion so we had been able to start familiarizing our pilots with the new aircraft. But the new D model had some major changes, the most obvious of which was the new bubble canopy that gave excellent vision all the way around, even better than what we were used to having in our P-38s and significantly better than the razor-back configuration of the B model Mustang.

I watched as Buffy swung around the airfield and turned onto her final approach, the aircraft dropping smoothly to the runway. Three small puffs of greyish smoke from her tires was the only indication that the plane had changed from flying to rolling on the runway. Damn that girl was good!

A few minutes later and Buffy was pulling up beside the hanger, a touch of throttle and a bit of brake and the Mustang spun on its left gear until it was facing out and then stopped. Moments later the engine was shutting down, I walked over to the plane and looked at her more closely. She was an interesting plane, somewhat slab sided but she had nice lines. The huge air intake under the wing gave her a somewhat pregnant appearance but altogether, she looked like she could do the job.

I came up to the left side of the plane behind the wing and watched Buffy step out of the cockpit and onto the wing, then turn and walk toward me until she dropped off the trailing edge of the wing to the ground. Her flying helmet was in her hand and her parachute hung from her slim frame, her hair was matted and her face dirty but her white teeth were clearly visible from her grin.

"You like her?"

Buffy nodded enthusiastically, "She's a beaut. Not quite as light on the controls as the Spits were but she reminds me a lot of them. Strange getting used to a stick again but after a few minutes I forgot all about it."

The Mustang had a control stick coming out of the cockpit floor and up between your legs, crudely called a joystick in Army slang for obvious reasons. Our P-38s were equipped with a wheel mounted on a post that came up the right side of the cockpit and then arced over your leg.

"She rolls a lot faster than the Lightning and she can turn tighter too, about the only thing she's slower at is diving. She doesn't want to go down all that fast, you have to give her more throttle to make her dive. But she accelerates a lot faster from almost any speed. She'll do just fine."

Three days later it was my turn, they had six more Mustangs ready for us at the aircraft depot south of London. We were to remain operational for at least another week so we weren't turning in our P-38s yet. Instead I collected five other girls - the twins, Sarah Harkens, Susie Dawkins and Cheryl Goodson – and we all loaded onto a truck to get a ride to the train station at Boston for the ride south.

As we walked onto the station platform the sun was just coming up, it was cool and patches of fog drifted around the station. There were several dozen civilians waiting on the platform. There was a stir among them as we came onto the platform but we just ignored it. I went over to the ticket booth and got tickets for us and then headed back to where the girls were standing on the edge of the platform looking up the line for the train. I was nearing a little girl, about 8 or 9, who was holding a young woman's hand, an older sister maybe, as she looked intently at me. I smiled at her and the little girl tugged on her companion's hand until she looked down and then asked, "Margie, why's that lady dressed up like a soldier?"

The teenager glanced at me, "She is a soldier; lots of women are soldiers now."

"But she has wings like Daddy!"

"Well, she must be a flyer. Maybe she helps move planes around."

Her comment brought me to a halt, I think some of Buffy is starting to rub off of me, I'm finding more and more I don't like the implication in a lot of things people say that women are in some way inherently less capable than men. I turned to them and then squatted down in front of the little girl, "Hi there, what's your name?"

The little girl glanced up at her companion who gave a little nod of encouragement, she looked at me round eyed and then ducked her head a little, "Amanda."

"It's nice to meet you, Amanda. I'm Barbara Thompson, although my friends usually call me Barb."

She looked at me from under her eyelashes for a moment, "Are you really a pilot?"

I nodded to her, "I'm a fighter pilot," I indicated with my head the other girls about clustered about twenty feet away from us, their attention now focusing on me and the girl, "we're all fighter pilots."

The little girl looked over at the five young women in brown leather flying jackets and khaki slacks, gold wings on their chests and officer's caps on their heads. The twins waved back at Amanda and she shyly raised her hand and waved at them.

I saw her companion's head turn and her eyes go round with shock as she saw the girls, then she was looking down at me, "I… I heard a year or so ago that a couple of American women had been flying fighters… but I didn't know there were more of you!"

I nodded, "There are quite a few of us now." I turned back to the little girl, "Remember, when you grow up you can be anything you want to be, don't let anyone tell you different."

She stared at me, "Even the prime minister?"

"Yes, even prime minister."

I heard a snort as I stood up and saw the look of disbelief on the teenagers face. I held out my hand, "Major Barbara Thompson."

"Margaret Roberts," she responded as she took it.

"You don't believe that you can be anything you want to be?"

"I don't believe there will be a woman prime minister for a very long time, certainly not in my lifetime nor Amanda's."

"I think you should re-evaluate your estimation of yourself if you hold women in such low esteem." I said as I gave her a steady look, then I turned my attention back to the little girl, "It was nice meeting you Amanda, and don't pay any attention to what your sister says, you can be anything you want to be, you just have to work for it hard enough."

"She's not my sister!"

"Okay… then your friend."

She nodded to me and I turned away and went on to where the girls were, as I came up Sherry asked, "Corrupting another little girl, Major?"

I glared at her, mostly in jest, and then said quietly, "Converting dear Sherry, just converting."

She and a couple others snorted in response. The blare of a train whistle snapped our attention back to the tracks where we could see a black engine coming toward us, hissing and smoking. The train rolled past us, slowing as the passenger cars approached. Suddenly I heard a voice shouting, "Major! Major Thompson!"

I looked up and saw Ben Franklin, an old squadron mate from the 611th, hanging half out a window waving at us. I waved back, as the car he was in rolled past he yelled, "Come to our car! We'll save you seats!"

The train slowed to a stop and Franklin was still hanging out the window, waving at us to come and join him. We trotted down the platform until we came to the rear of the car he was in and then climbed up the steps. On entering the car we were in a long hallway that ran down one side of the car, on one side of the hallway were windows opening to the outside. On the other side of the hallway sliding doors opening into small compartments were spaced about every ten feet. Each compartment had two benches facing each other, each bench wide enough for three people if you didn't mind sitting close. Racks over the benches were provided to stow your luggage. At the far side of the compartments were three windows, the middle ones operable.

As I stepped into the hallway I could see Franklin standing part way out of one of the compartments about halfway down the car, he was waving at us to come join him. I walked down the hallway with the girls following behind in single file. As I neared him he stepped back into his compartment to let some people get past coming from the other direction. The hallway wasn't all that wide and we had to turn sideways and sidle past each other as the other passengers headed toward the back of the car.

As I neared the door I could see another AAF pilot leaning out of the door of the compartment past the one Franklin was in. I got to the door and turned into the compartment, the blinds on the windows on either side of the door had been drawn so I hadn't been able to see into the compartment but I had expected Franklin to have stepped away back from the door so there would be room for me. Instead I walked right into him, his arms went around me and squeezed me in a hug and lifted me off my feet as he said into my ear, "God! Barb it's been months! What a sight for sore eyes!"

"Franklin! Put me down!" But I found that I wasn't completely immune to his greeting, I was hugging him back. Then I heard snorts and giggles from behind me and changed my hug to pounding on his back, "Put me down now!"

He set me back on my feet and let go of me and I staggered a little, his hands gripped my shoulders to steady me as he stepped back a little and looked me up and down, "You're looking good, Major!"

I looked at him, he'd been promoted since I last saw him, "You're not too shabby yourself, Captain. But your military decorum has sort of gone out the window… although I'm not sure if you ever had any."

He snorted and looked over my shoulder at the girls behind me, we were creating a traffic jam in the hallway, "I sent three of my guys to claim the next compartment forward, it was empty, so there's room for half your gals in there and the other half in here with us."

I looked behind him and saw two other officers standing awkwardly in the gap between the benches, both Lieutenants with pilots wings on their chests. I looked back at Ben, "You'll have to move out of the way if we're going to join you."

Ben stepped back and I waved him and the other two into their seats, there really wasn't enough room for six people in the little compartment if everyone was standing. I moved in and sat on the bench opposite the three men and slid over until I was next to the window; the twins came in and sat beside me. Sarah stuck her head in, "Next compartment forward you said?"

Ben looked up at her and nodded, "Yes mi… Lieutenant."

Sarah and the other two girls continued down the hallway to the next compartment, Ben turned back to us, "Captain Franklin," I said, "these are Captains Cherry and Sherry McMillan. Cherry, Sherry, Captain Franklin was in the 611th with the Colonel and me."

Ben held out his hand and shook each of theirs in turn, "It's a pleasure to meet you ladies, although I think the Major is going a little overboard on the military stuff, I'm Ben."

Cherry leaned into her sister and in a stage whisper everyone could hear said to her, "He called us ladies… he's got a lot to learn!"

Franklin looked at me, "Spawn of Buffy?"

I nodded my head, "You don't know the half of it."

Sherry turned to me, "And neither do we! One of these days you are going to explain to us what this secret is you and the Colonel think you know about us!"

I held up my hands and said as convincingly as I could, "I don't know any secret that Buffy and I have about you two." Cherry turned to look at me and she and her sister gave me a very disbelieving look. I ignored them and turned back to Ben, "And your mates?"

"Ah… Well now these are the great military flyers Lieutenant Robert Pearson and Lieutenant Ed Edwards, Ed here doesn't like to use his real first name which is Sibelius. Lieutenants, this is Major Barbara Thompson, late of the glorious 611th."

Pearson was gazing at me wide eyed as I shook his hand, "Ma'am."

I took Edwards hand and he smiled easily, "I think Bob's a little star struck, Major."

I released his hand in turn, "Let's relax gentlemen, and ladies, I'm Barb."

A thought struck me, "Where are you guys heading?"

"London," Ben responded, "we're going to pick up some new fighters."

"Mustangs?"

He nodded in agreement and then comprehension came to his eyes, "You too?"

I nodded, "Yeah, we're converting over also."

We had a pleasant trip to London although I thought Pearson and Edwards ended up a little shell shocked, the twins were in rare form and I only reined them in a little. We pulled into King's Cross just before 11 AM and we all got some lunch, fish & chips from a street vendor outside the station, while we waited for the truck from the air depot to arrive. Once it picked us up it was another hour ride in the open bed of a deuce and a half to the depot airfield.

I sat in the cockpit of the brand new P-51D and looked over the instruments and controls, familiarizing myself with the layout and trying to change the habits developed after a year of flying P-38s. I looked out the open canopy and saw five more Mustangs lined up beside me, I clicked the transmit button, "Falcon flight, radio check."

"Falcon two, loud and clear."

"Falcon three, ditto."

"Falcon four, got ya skipper."

"Falcon five, five by five."

"Falcon six, suitably luscious."

I shook my head; everyone had to be different, "Falcon flight, start engines!"

I checked around my aircraft, the ground crewmen were clear and standing by with a large fire extinguisher. I eased the throttle lever on the left side of the cockpit to the start position and gave the primer a couple quick jabs before pressing down on the start button. A high pitched whine emanated from in front of me and after a moment the big four bladed prop gave a jerk and then several more. A loud bang came from my engine and a puff of black smoke, more bangs followed until they blended together in a continuous loud roar and the propeller in front of me turned into a blur. I watched the instruments come to life and the engine settled down as it warmed up.

Once the engine was up to temperature I got clearance from the tower and we trundled down the taxiway, the girls following behind me like ducklings after their mother. I turned onto the runway and Sarah pulled up beside me, we stopped for a moment to do final checks. I looked over at her and she gave a curt nod. I reached up and grabbed the canopy and slammed it closed, double checking the latch to make sure it was locked in place.

I ran up my engine and released the brakes and she quickly accelerated down the runway. The barest forward pressure on the stick and the tail lifted clear and she accelerated even faster. She was light on the wheels and it only took a little back pressure and she lifted clear. I raised the gear and flaps and started a steady climb, turning to the west to clear the airfield.

Soon all the girls were with me and we continued climbing and heading west, we had plenty of time and lots of gas so we had decided to go play a little before we headed back to Spilsby. There was an exercise area where we could work the planes out north of Aberystwyth on the edge of the Irish Sea, out of range of any German fighters so we could practice without having to worry about getting jumped. We had a little ammunition loaded, we never flew around England without some ammo, but now was not the time to get into a fight.

Three hours later I lead the girls back to Spilsby. Buffy had been right, the Mustangs were a dream to fly. If I'd worked a P-38 as long and hard as I'd worked the Mustang this afternoon I'd be ready to drop. I was tired, but not as tired as I would have been. The controls were a lot lighter and she seemed to fly without as much effort. The P-38 was a big, heavy aircraft for a fighter and she required some muscle to get her to move quickly. The Mustang wasn't quite as light on the controls as the Spitfire but she was close.

I set her down at Spilsby and taxied up to the squadron hanger, outside I saw Buffy, Gunderson, and several other people in a group watching us come in. I got her parked and shut down and then climbed out of the cockpit, Buffy was waiting for me behind the wing, I gave her a smile as I walked down the wing.

'You like?" she asked.

I nodded, "She's a beaut."

"Well, treat her nice, she's yours. We got word today two dozen more are ready and waiting for us at the depot at Liverpool. And we'll get another two dozen next week, so what you guys got today are being assigned to you."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to go pick up one of the ones up at Liverpool tomorrow; we've got a C-47 coming in to give us a ride so it won't take all that long."

Mac had come up behind Buffy as we had been talking, sharp in his new warrant officer's uniform, and Markoff was with him, "Hey skipper, this going to be your new plane?"

"Yeah, think you can find someone to take care of her for me?"

"Yes sir, I'm going to assign Markoff to her."

I looked at Markoff, he was still the group's painter but he'd matured a lot in the last 9 months. "Ready for a plane of your own, Sergeant?"

"Yes sir, I'll get her marked tonight."

I thought for a moment, then shrugged my shoulders, what the hell, everyone had already gone nuts around here, "You remember that picture you showed me when we got Barbie Doll?"

A gleam came to his eye, "Yes sir."

"Let's use it; I think it will fit better on her. And her name is 'Barbie' not 'Barbie Doll'."

Buffy spoke up, "Aw Barb, what's wrong with Barbie Doll?"

"The way you giggle when you see it makes me suspect there is some kind of joke that I wouldn't appreciate about it. Plus, I've never really felt like a doll."

Buffy smiled at me, "You're right… Barbie's a good name for her."


	5. Chapter 5: The Ambush

October had arrived but the extraordinary summer weather was continuing, which had not helped the tenuous Russian positions in the Caucuses. They seemed to be having more effect with their continuing attacks out of the foothills of the Urals toward Moscow, the latest reports indicated they had actually managed to encircle and severely maul one of the German's main offensive formations in Army Group Central. The Russian's had evidently unnerved the German's enough that they were siphoning troops from Army Group South to deal with the problems. The German's also seemed to be expending an inordinate amount of resources trying to capture Leningrad in the north.

The bombing offensive we and the Brits were trying to wage against the Germans seemed to be having some effect. By the numbers of German fighters we were seeing they didn't like what we were doing, it made for lots of good hunting. Unfortunately the good hunting applied to both sides. My old 794th squadron had taken it especially hard the last couple of weeks.

Two weeks ago on the same mission both the twins had gotten hit, Cherry got a cannon shell in her cockpit that punched a good sized hole through her calf. Fortunately it didn't detonate until it hit the cockpit floor, but both her legs got peppered with shrapnel from the exploding round. She managed to get her aircraft back home, flying most of the way sitting on the leg with the hole through it to slow down the bleeding. On the same mission Sherry caught two machine gun rounds in the abdomen, fortunately high up and on the side so there wasn't too much internal damage and she was healing nicely. But both girls had been out since they were hit and neither would be back flying for at least a couple more weeks.

I thought they should be grounded for another month but they were already starting to campaign to get back in the air even though Cherry was still on crutches and Sherry could barely sit up. Buffy and I had stopped by the previous evening and she told them that when they could run two laps around the runway she'd put them back on flight ops. I wouldn't be surprised to find them trying to run laps when we got back this afternoon.

Then Susie Dawkins, Cherry's stand in as squadron XO, had gotten hit and badly wounded, she managed to get back but I doubted if we'd ever see her again, I hoped she would survive. Then two days later Cheryl Goodson, the acting squadron CO, got nailed by a pair of Fw-190s, from the reports she'd taken a heavy burst right in the cockpit, her plane had fallen out of control but wasn't on fire and no one had seen a chute so we were pretty certain she had bought the farm. Her flight had taken it out on the two Germans, both went down in flames, and then they went on something of a rampage and nailed seven more before they returned home.

Buffy had temporarily reassigned me as CO of the 794th until we could groom someone else to take over or the twins healed up. Between loses and other operational demands we just didn't have enough senior people to go around. Today's maximum effort mission, a bomber escort to Munich, had stretched us thin to put up three full squadrons. Buffy had been torn between flying with us and staying behind to take care of the innumerable other things for which she was responsible. She was torn because she really wanted to fly but she knew she really should stay on the ground and take care of things there. In the end she'd opted to lead the back-up flight, we had managed to scrape up four extra planes to go with us in case anyone had to abort the mission.

We hadn't even gotten into the air and one of the back-ups had been called to fill in a flight in the 795th, someone's engine wouldn't start. I was going to have to look into that when we got back, an engine failure on the flight line was something that shouldn't happen. It could, you never knew when one of them would throw a rod or something else major happened but still… I needed to make sure it was really unforeseen or if there could have been something done that would have prevented it.

The group had gotten in the air and started for our rendezvous point with the bombers when two other planes had to abort, one from the 793rd because she couldn't get fuel out of one of her drop tanks and another from the 795th because two of her machine guns jammed when she test fired them and she couldn't clear the jams. She wanted to continue but Tammie, the group lead for the day, ordered her back, going into combat with a third of your firepower out of commission was stupid, especially since back-ups were available. I suspected the jam was caused because of some bad ammo, we'd been having a lot of jams and misfires lately and I think we were taxing the supply system; someone was getting sloppy in the production of ammunition. I'd seen some reports from other groups about problems with 50 caliber ammo so we weren't the only ones being affected.

I'd started to think Buffy would be able to skip the mission, the back-up planes returned to base when we crossed the coast of France if they weren't needed and we had almost reached the French coast. If there had been enough of them available when they turned back then they could make a short rhubarb flight, i.e. they could go find something valuable to the Germans and shoot it up before returning to base. I thought that that was what Buffy was actually hoping would occur but with just her I knew she'd return to Spilsby and not try anything alone. Buffy was good enough that she could have gotten away with it but it was not an example she was going to set for the rest of the troops. We'd been in a gradual climb since we'd left the airfield to stretch our fuel to the maximum; we passed through fifteen thousand feet as we crossed the French coast and went onto oxygen. Then my blue flight leader, Kelly Armstrong, radioed that her oxygen system wasn't working and she had to abort, Buffy took over as blue flight lead.

We had met the bombers just after we crossed into France. There were six B-17 groups, nearly three hundred of them, in a stream stretching more than ten miles across the sky. We had been in the air covering them for a couple of hours and hadn't seen anything of the Germans except for some light flak from some of the towns we passed over. We'd crossed the German border a little while before and I'd expected some to be waiting for us, but it looked like today they were going to wait until we were on our way out. It was not an effective tactical plan; it meant the bombers got to make their attack unmolested except for the flak. But as a strategic plan I could see its merits, our formations were likely to be scattered and less coherent after the bomb run.

Buffy's proposal to have second group of escort fighters meet the bomber stream as they were leaving the target area had not been approved. There were too many concerns about missing the rendezvous or other problems developing. Also, it turned out that the new Mustangs had the legs to stay with the bombers from beginning to end. Instead of providing a second set of fighters for escorts when we had extra fighters available they were being sent out to hunt. We had gotten a couple of free hunting missions and they were fun, you could almost always find some Germans and since you weren't tied to the bombers you got to bounce them whenever you were ready. And since they weren't getting ready to attack the bombers they weren't always expecting to get attacked, we'd managed a couple very successful bounces.

We, the fighters that is, didn't like to go over the target with the bombers, it wasn't sensible to unnecessarily expose ourselves to that much flak. But it meant we had to join back up with the bombers and try to set up the coverage again, invariably it wouldn't be as good as it was right now. The Germans would also know exactly where we were and where we were going, as long as we were inbound we might be making a feint and change our course to a different target. With the relatively limited range of their fighters sending them up in front of us to make the intercept and then have us change course could end up with a lot of empty fighters without enough time to refuel and get back to us. It was a cat and mouse game we were constantly playing with the Germans. Sometimes we went straight in to make our flight time and distance as short as possible, other times we would head for one plausible target and then change course at the last minute to hit someplace else.

My favorite tactic, when possible, was to make it look like we were heading for a target deeper into Germany than we actually were and then reverse course and hit the real target on the way out. Not only did it mess with their interception plan it also tended to screw up their flak batteries, they weren't used to us coming from the east. But today that was not possible, there wasn't any reasonably convincing target beyond Munich, at least not one that the Germans would buy as a target for a force the size of ours. So this was going to be a straight in and out mission.

Now it looked like the Germans were going to try a new tactic of their own. At least I didn't think they were dumb enough not to have figured out where we were going and messed up their interception plan that badly. They'd certainly never been that dumb before. When we were outbound there wasn't any question of where we were going and it was unlikely the bombers would make large deviations in their course. Waiting to make organized attacks after the bombers had made their attack, if you had the nerve and were willing to be patient and take the first hit, could be an effective tactic.

We were using the protection scheme patterned on the one Buffy had initially proposed back in July. We were a couple thousand feet above the bomber stream and our higher cruising speed was slowly bringing us toward the front of it. As the squadrons passed the front of the bomber stream they turned right or left and cruised down the flanks about ten miles out. I started checking time and distance and realized we'd be the last squadron over the bombers before our normal breakoff when they made their turn at the IP (Initial Point) for their bomb run, assuming everyone was on course and things were going as briefed. Tammy Nelson was leading the group today from her position as lead of the 795th squadron, she was a couple miles in front of us; the 793rd was about the same distance behind us.

"Falcon lead Eagle lead," I radioed.

"Falcon go," I heard her respond.

"We're going to stay with the bombers, Osprey lead copy?"

"Roger Falcon lead," Helen Carson responded, "we'll stick with you also."

Both Helen and Tammy were bright and probably worked out the same thought I had, or at least they did when I told them what I was going to do. Tammy came back on the air, "We'll break-off and meet you on the other side."

"Roger, Eagle lead," I replied, "Falcon flights, let's get a little higher."

By climbing not only would we reduce our forward progress to nearly that of the bombers, we would also separate ourselves enough from the bombers that it was unlikely the flak the Germans would be unloading on them would bother us. It was just as unlikely that they would adjust the altitude they were setting their shells to detonate at to our higher altitude; the bombers were their priority target. There would probably be some long rounds just to keep us on our toes, but a mile in altitude was a long distance for an artillery round. The climb would cost us some fuel but we had plenty, the mission was well within our range and we had had an easy flight so far. I started us up and glanced behind to make sure everyone was staying in formation, they were and as I looked behind I could see the 793rd was climbing with us.

We reached the altitude I wanted us at and leveled off at the same time as the bombers made their turn at the IP, the lead group was just in front of us and I led us in a long slow bank to keep our position just behind them. We'd slowed our speed to match that of the bombers, I extended my flaps 10 degrees to provide some additional lift, at this altitude our stall speed was perilously close to the bomber's cruising speed. The flaps seemed to help and _**Barbie**_ felt a lot steadier, I sent out a terse order to the squadron, "Falcon lead, flaps 10."

Below and in front of us the sky exploded in dirty black and brown puffs as the first flak barrage went off. I was glad to see it was well below us, but not happy that they seemed to have the bombers altitude about perfect. For the next three minutes I watched in fascination as the heavy bombers slowly plodded toward their target, flak constantly bursting in and around them. I saw two planes drop back with smoking engines but it seemed like they were still flying, I hoped they didn't become stragglers and easy meat for German fighters. One bomber disappeared in a massive explosion that even we could feel, the flak round evidently got its bomb load. One of its neighbors got caught in the explosion and was spinning toward the ground out of control. I saw a couple of chutes blossom around it but that was all, the other seven or eight crewmen went down with the plane. Behind us I could see a half dozen or so more smoke trails of bombers going down, the deadly flak was taking its toll.

The lead B-17s started to bounce up as the tons of bombs they were carrying in their bellies were suddenly dropping free, moments later the entire lead group made a long wheeling turn to the right until they were headed back to the west. I held us in the same relative position for another minute; heavy flak was still exploding around the fleeing bombers and I knew it would be a couple of minutes before we were clear of the area and out where the German fighters might be. Then I decided it was time to get ready and radioed to the squadron, "Falcon lead, normal cruise."

I retracted the flaps and advance the throttle slightly to get us back to our normal cruise but kept us high, I still wanted to stay well clear of any stray flak. The flak was just beginning to taper off when I heard Buffy, "Falcon Blue Lead, bogies, eleven o'clock low."

I looked off to the left of our course and after a moment spotted a cluster of black dots, "Falcon Lead, got 'em!"

As I watched they seemed to coalesce into two groups, one of slightly larger dots below and smaller dots above. I was reasonably sure the larger dots were Me-410s, twin engine heavy fighters the Germans liked to use against our bombers because of their heavy weapons. The smaller dots would probably be Me-109s acting as escorts for the 410s because they were sitting ducks for us. It was possible they were Fw-190s but I doubted it, the Focke-Wulfs liked to go after the bombers themselves and I didn't see the Germans holding them back as escorts.

As we'd crossed over Munich cloud cover had started to increase and we were right at the base of the clouds, sometimes whipping through wisps of them that hung down, the cloud cover over us was almost solid. I hoped the Germans didn't spot us up against the grey clouds, if so we could get a good bounce. I held us where we were for another couple of minutes, pulling in front of the bomber stream. The Germans had reached our nine o'clock when they turned and headed toward the bombers. I held us high for another thirty seconds and then radioed, "Falcon Lead, Tally ho! One pass through the top cover and then hit the 410s!"

The girls were all quiet behind me as I rolled onto my wing tip and then dropped in a steep dive, I'd waited until we could come down in a curving course and slash through them from above and behind. I checked our relative positions and then ordered, "Falcon Lead, Blue, Green, spread double, Yellow down one hundred."

Blue and Green flight, on either side of my Red flight in our diamond formation, spread out doubling their distance from us, Yellow flight increased their dive slightly to get further below us. I could see the Germans clearly now, fifteen 109s in a diamond formation, three flights of four and one of three. A thousand feet below them, just above the level of the bombers, it looked like two squadrons of 410s, although one of the seemed to be missing an entire flight, there were only three flights of four in the rear group that I could see. I curved the formation a little tighter and lined up on the lead flight 109s.

The lead plane was filling my sight ring, just as I was about to open fire the 2nd element lead and his wingman jerked over in a hard bank, spotted at last! But it was too late for the leader and his wingman; I pushed the MG button and watched the six streams of tracers, three from either side, flash out from my wings to converge on him, hits sparkled on his fuselage and then condensed on his wing root. There was the flash of a gasoline explosion and he was tumbling through the air, his plane breaking up. His wingman was spinning down trailing a long streamer of flame and smoke courtesy of Francine, my wingman's fire.

I risked a quick glance behind me, it looked like everyone was still there and I saw nine other smoke trails from downed Germans. Four trails originated from where Buffy's Blue flight would have been, it looked like she'd gotten another perfect intercept. I changed my concentration to ahead and decreased the angle of our dive. I decided to go for the lead group of Me-410s, I didn't especially like being in front of the trailing group but I didn't think they'd do a lot of shooting at us with their comrades in front of them.

They were starting to jink, they knew we were coming but they were continuing on their course for the bombers. We would reach them a little before they got to the bombers but if we stayed with them we'd be subject to fire from the bombers, "Falcon Lead, one pass and then hit the rear group!"

We were rapidly closing on them when I saw tracers start to come toward us from the turrets on either side of their fuselages. I jinked the squadron over some and then curved back, masking one of the guns in each of the Me-410s from our approach. I lined up on the lead flight and hoped my squadron mates were doing the same, the flight leads could usually handle it without direction and I didn't have a good enough grasp of the relationships to direct them. I was reassured as I heard the crisp calls of the flight leads positioning their elements and occasionally the individual wingmen, but the orders were terse and the airwaves were quiet for the most part. The 410 filed my sight ring and I pressed the button on the top of my control stick and the roar of my guns started again. Hits flashed on the left wing and I applied just a touch of pressure to the stick and the fire marched up the wing to the engine nacelle. There was a flash of exploding gasoline and the engine started to windmill, the German plane fell off on the damaged wing and I walked my fire over to the cockpit. The cockpit glazing shattered into thousands of gleaming shards and the Me-410 nosed over into a steep dive. I let up on the firing button, it had been a long burst, almost five seconds, but she wasn't going to recover.

I pulled the rest of the way out of the shallow dive I'd been in and rolled into a vertical bank, turning to head back toward the rear group of Me-410s. I risked a quick look behind and saw Blue and Green flights were reforming on me, behind them seven or eight smoke trails marked downed Germans. I didn't spot Yellow flight immediately and then saw them; they were well below us and just starting to pull up from a steep dive. They were just passing two more smoke trails, I saw further below them the spinning, burning remains of two more 410s heading for the ground. The flight they were after must have tried to get away. I saw Yellow Lead adjust her course and her flight formed on her as she spotted us and started to climb back to rejoin. The bombers were getting close but our curve was taking us away from them again, I just hopped none of them started shooting at us.

Ahead the last group of Me-410s started to scatter, one flight turning and diving away from us while the nearer of the other two flights turned toward us and the lead flight continued toward the bombers, "Falcon Lead, Red flight is taking the attackers! Green, Blue – take the lead group, Yellow get the runners!"

My girls kept their radio discipline; the flight leaders snapped a terse acknowledgement, "Green," "Blue," "Yellow." Other than that there was only the hum of the radio carrier wave in my ears.

I didn't want a head on pass into the heavy frontal fire power of the Me-410s so I pushed my stick forward and started a dive, building speed at the same time. A quick check on Blue and Green flights and they were curving wide to avoid the attacking 410s and get to the lead group. Whoever was leading the attacking flight made a bad decision, or he thought we were running, because he started to turn to protect his lead flight from my other two flights.

I pulled Red flight up, turning our dive into a zoom climb and they came in range almost immediately. Red four was out of position, she was on the wrong side of her element lead but that was my fault not hers, the rest of us all had clear shots at the bellies of the 410s. We all opened fire at almost the same instant, Francine's target immediately exploded, pods under the inner wing section that I didn't recognize going off with such force that the 410 simply disappeared. My fire was going into the fuselage on my target but I saw the same pods on the aircraft I was shooting at, I tapped my rudder and my fire tracked across the belly and into one of the pods. It immediately detonated with enough force to blow the 410's wing and engine clean off. I shoved my stick forward to stay under the wreckage and cleared it with only a couple of minor pings.

I looked around, all of Red flight was with me and three pyres marked the falling German planes, the fourth plane was diving away from us and the bombers. I didn't think he would be back. Thoughts were flashing through my mind, those pods were sure touchy! They reminded me of rocket pods, but what the hell were they doing carrying rocket pods when they were going after bombers? Those were ground attack weapons. Maybe they hadn't had time to remove them? That didn't make a whole lot of sense.

I swung red flight around, catching sight of Blue and Green flights just before they reached the lead flight of Me-410s. I didn't want us to get separated any more than we had to, it made it tougher and took longer to reform. I looked around for Yellow flight and finally spotted them far below us, a couple smoke trails marked two more downed Germans but I couldn't see any sign of the other two 410s from the fleeing flight. Yellow flight was climbing back toward us, I was glad to see Cherry hadn't gotten carried away and broke off before they got too far away even if it meant letting a couple of the Germans get away.

One of my flights, Blue I thought, was just about to open up on the last group of 410s when smoke and flame suddenly appeared below the wings of all four of the 410s. The damn things were rocket pods and the Germans were firing them at the bombers! I didn't know if they could hit any of the bombers, but it would only take one of those rockets to down a bomber. The grey smoke trails were streaking toward the bombers and then the 410s finished their firing and banked sharply and tried to dive away but they were too late. I recognized Buffy's plane and knew it was Blue flight, they followed the fleeing Germans around and all four of her planes opened up at the same time, seconds later three 410s were flaming wrecks and the fourth was spinning out of control toward the ground far below.

I looked back at the B-17s and saw one was spinning toward the ground, half of its wing missing. Another was dropping back quickly, two engines with flame streaming from them, chutes started to appear behind it as the crew bailed out. I hoped they could all get clear before it went completely out of control. It looked like those damned rockets could be effective, the 410s had never even gotten within range of the bombers guns when they'd fired.

I turned red flight around, we'd ended up heading southwest - the opposite direction the bomber stream was going. I slowed down to normal cruise to let the other flights catch back up, by the time everybody was back and we were reformed the last of the bombers had passed us and were receding in the distance. I looked around and no one appeared to have been damaged, "Falcon flight, any problems?"

"Falcon Green Four, Falcon Lead, I took some hits but everything seems to be working fine."

"Roger, let us know if anything comes up."

I looked around but couldn't spot any more Germans in the area, "Falcon flight, lets rejoin the bombers."

"Falcon Lead, how about a rhubarb?" I recognized Buffy's voice.

I looked at the receding bombers, it would take us a while to catch up to them and I know she thought it was more effective if we went hunting on our own. I was weighing our options, fuel and time to rejoin versus what we could find crossing Germany on our own. I also knew I was getting low on ammunition and I suspected a lot of the other girls were too. I had just about decided to go for the rhubarb when my world exploded.

Four or five massive explosions sent my plane tumbling and spinning out of control. I was thrown violently against the cockpit side as _**Barbie**_ went into a vicious spin, my head cracked against the canopy and all I saw was stars for several moments. I shook my head and looked out; smoke and flame were wrapping around the canopy and then momentarily blew clear as we spun toward the earth. I caught a glimpse of my wing and it looked like the outer third was completely gone! I wondered if I'd been hit by those damned rockets but then thought better, if I'd been hit by four or five rockets there wouldn't be anything left of _**Barbie**_ - or me for that matter.

I struggled to get hold of the stick, the force of the spin was pinning me to the cockpit wall but I finally managed to grab it and shove it forward. Barbie dropped her nose in response. I tried to use some aileron to counter act the spin but nothing happened, then I remembered the missing part of the wing was were the aileron was. I managed to reach the flap controls and jerked them back, I heard a loud grinding but she started to slow a little.

I pulled back on the stick and she started to pull out of her dive although she continued to roll slowly. I looked out and could see flames spewing from both my wings but the immediate area of the canopy was clear. I hit my harness release and reached up and pulled the canopy emergency release and was surrounded by screaming freezing wind as the canopy flew off. I continued pulling on the stick and _**Barbie**_ miraculously stopped rolling and slowly started a loop. I jerked the E&E bag from beside the seat, it was attached to my parachute harness and I didn't want it hanging up and tying me to the plane.

"Hold on, baby! Hold together just a little longer!" I whispered fervently to _**Barbie**_. I pulled my feet onto the bottom of the seat and crouched there. I unsnapped and jerked off the oxygen mask and pulled the radio connections out and made sure nothing else would hold me in. _**Barbie**_ made it to the top of the loop and I pushed off the seat, diving out of my plane, as I fell clear I yelled back to her, "Bye, girl, you've been a dear!"

I was out but spinning uncontrollably, I got the impression of trees and ground not too far below me and frantically grabbed for the D-ring, my fingers went around it and I jerked it out of its pouch and pulled on it until the two feet of wire and clips came free. Moments later a massive jerk snapped me around, the harness squeezing the air out of me and I was sure giving me a wonderful set of bruises. I was hanging; actually it felt more like I was sitting, under the parachute. I was oscillating wildly back and forth, ground and sky alternately passing under my feet. From the glimpses of the ground that I got I thought it was rushing toward me awfully fast, a brief thought flashed through my mind, 'should I really be falling this fast with a parachute?'

I saw a line of trees and rocky ground below me and then the ground came up with a rush. I hit hard and tried to fall like they had told us, a sharp pain shot up my right leg, damn it why did I keep hurting the same damn leg! I was on the ground, stunned by the impact and the sudden quiet after hours in a roaring fighter, the last ten or fifteen minutes with the additional noise of rattling machine guns and bursting explosions. I heard a deep, heavy 'whumph' and felt the shock through the ground, _**Barbie**_ must have crashed not too far from me.

A wind was blowing and my parachute started tugging on me, threatening to drag me across the rocky ground. I reached up and grabbed one set of shrouds and started hauling them toward me, the chute collapsed and I pulled it to me, wrapping the shrouds around it to make an ungainly bundle. Then I laid on my back and looked up at the sky, it was blue with only a scattering of clouds. Silently I thanked _**Barbie**_, she had saved my life, again, but this time at the cost of her own. I know it's ridiculous to anthropomorphize what was basically a mass of aluminum with some other odds and ends thrown in but I couldn't help mourning her end.

I felt my leg, it hurt but it didn't seem to be broken. Then I reached my ankle and gasped in pain, I felt it gingerly for a few moments, I was reasonably sure it wasn't broken but I'd sure sprained it pretty bad. I left my high boot laced up tight, I knew if I took it off that ankle was going to swell like crazy and I'd probably never get the damn thing back on.

I looked around, I was in a rocky, grassy field, and the land sloped sharply down to a line of low, gnarled pines twenty or thirty yards below me. Upward I could see only more rock and scrubby grass, mountain peaks were nearby, I must be on the side of a mountain right at the timber line. I couldn't see down very far but I could see heavy smoke rising in the air not too far further down the mountainside. I could also smell wood smoke mixed with gasoline, _**Barbie**_ must have started a forest fire when she hit.

I knew we were south of Munich, so on the other side of these mountains was either Austria or Switzerland, depending how far west I was. I started to inventory what I had, the clothes I had on which included long underwear, heavy wool pants and shirt, my heavy sheep-skin lined leather jacket, a reasonably good pair of heavy boots, one of which was currently holding my sprained ankle together. I had on my flying helmet and my goggles were on the ground near me where I'd dropped them when I'd started looking around. In a shoulder holster I had my forty-five with three extra magazines, twenty nine rounds total. I had the M3 Trench Knife we'd been issued a couple months before strapped in a sheath on my right leg. I had my parachute, the rope shrouds and the silk of the canopy would probably both be useful. I had my first aid kit, and I had my E&E bag.

The Escape & Evasion bag was another idea of Buffy's from her past life, where she had seen or heard about it I had no idea although it was probably from 'Xander's tapes', that had seemed where she'd gotten most of her knowledge concerning the military from. She'd explained to me how you could get movies on 'VHS' tape and play them on your 'VCR' to watch on your TV. I'd seen an article about the new 'television' system that they were working on, predicting it would be able to provide home entertainment like a radio except with pictures in a couple of years. I guess it had improved a lot by her time, to the point where just about everybody had them. I just thought of it as a fancy home movie system and let it go at that.

The E&E bag contained a week's worth of emergency rations plus some chocolate bars and other food. It had a more extensive first aid kit and it had smaller scale maps and a better compass to supplement the ones we carried in our flight clothes. There was additional room in the bag and we could put in whatever we thought would be useful. I knew several girls who carried basic make-up supplies in them; they wanted to look 'nice' if they ever got shot down. Mine didn't, I had some extra food and a small mess kit. The E&E bag was attached to our parachute harness by a heavy line, we were supposed to jump with it but then let it hang free once our chute opened. I'd never gotten a chance to let go of mine, I'd held it to my chest the whole way down.

I looked around; I had to decide what I was going to do. I could stay where I was and let the Germans find me; if not today then tomorrow sometime. I knew they would send a patrol of some kind to investigate the crash. If I let them capture me I was reasonably sure I would survive, at least for a while. We'd heard back from four girls that we had lost and had ended up being captured; one was pretty severely wounded but was being treated in a German hospital. The other three had all ended up in the same prison camp; we'd gotten a couple of postcards from them. One had reported, using some secret keywords we'd come up with, that she'd been raped when she'd been captured but the other two had reported being treated decently.

Alternatively, I could try to make my way to Switzerland and get interred for the rest of the war. I'd be safe, and reasonably comfortable, if I made it. It was a nice day today but it was October, I didn't know how much longer it would be until the winter storms hit. I could end up trapped in the mountains and dying of starvation or freezing to death. Or I could make it through the mountains and end up in Austria and be captured by the Germans, a lot of work and risk for not much gain.

Finally, I could try to make my way west, out of the mountains and out of Germany and into France. In France I might be able to contact the French resistance and actually get back to England, or I could be turned over to the Germans.

If my ankle wasn't injured I wouldn't be thinking about the alternatives, I'd be making my way west while trying to stay as close to Switzerland as possible. If I could make it to France I would go for it, otherwise I'd make sure it was Switzerland I was north of and turn myself in to them.

After another minute I decided what the hell, I wouldn't know how far my ankle would carry me until I tried so I might as well get started. I could always give up to the Germans if there wasn't any alternative to dying, but that was a last resort. I didn't have much interest in spending the rest of the war, however long that was, in some prison camp. I had even less interest in seeing how I enjoyed being raped, so I thought I'd give escaping a shot.

I wanted to keep the parachute with me, both so the Germans wouldn't have a starting point for their search for me and because I could use the material. I spent several minutes packing it more tightly, I didn't try to repack it for a jump but I did get it mostly contained in its bag, tied up with a couple of shroud lines.

I got to my feet and found I could manage a stumbling limp; I worked my way down to the tree line and spent a couple minutes looking for a good branch I could use as a walking stick. I had to go thirty or forty yards inside the tree line before I found a dead branch that was suitable, then spent a couple of minutes cutting it free and cleaning it of smaller branches and rough spots.

I was aware the smoke of the forest fire was getting heavier; I needed to get a move on it. I started my hike and quickly realized going through the forest, even as small and sparse as it was near the tree line, was going to be tough. I worked my way back up until I was above the tree line; I decided to head west and parallel it until I was well clear of where _**Barbie**_ had crashed. It looked like before I went too far I'd curve around the side of the mountain I was on and I'd have a better view of what lay to the south. Then I might be able to figure out exactly where I was.

I had only made it about a hundred yards when a voice called from behind me, "HEY! BARB! WAIT UP!"


	6. Chapter 6: The Cave

I stopped and turned slowly and looked behind me; Buffy was coming out of the tree line. I stared at her, amazed at her appearance. I shook my head to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Then I thought, 'I must be unconscious, all this must be some fantasy!'

She trotted up to me, her parachute and E&E bag slung over one shoulder. I noticed that her parachute had not been used; it was still packed ready for a jump. I must be dreaming I thought - then she grinned at me, "Strange meeting you here."

I reached out and touched her arm, she was standing there, "Buffy… what the hell?!"

Buffy looked me up and down, "How are you, Barb?"

I shook my head, still not sure if this was a dream, "So-so, twisted my ankle pretty bad… but it seems I can walk on it after a fashion."

I looked her over, she was dirty and soot covered, her pants were ripped high up on the outside and I saw a glimpse of her thigh as the wind wafted the material. Her jacket was open and her shirt wasn't tucked in, the lower couple of buttons were also undone, "What about you?"

"Not bad, some scrapes and bruises… some minor shrapnel wounds in my side," her hand made a gesture toward her left side, "but not too bad and I can move okay."

A thought suddenly came to me, one that I wasn't happy with, "Did you follow me down?!"

Buffy looked up, startled, "Uh… well sort of… " I knew my expression hardened and she hastily went on, "Not by choice! I lost my engine, I saw someone going in, I didn't know who, and I saw your chute open at the last minute, boy you cut it close!"

"It wasn't by design!"

She nodded in understanding, "I tried to stay close; bellied her in a couple miles east of here. I could see the fire _**Barbie**_ started so I decided to head this way. I didn't know it was you, Barb."

I looked at her hard; I wouldn't have put it past her to come after me. She returned my gaze and I decided to accept it, besides even if she had known it was me she could have just as easily decided it was just another sacrifice the PTBs were going to make her make. "What the hell happened? I never saw what got me!"

"I think it was some jets," she said casually.

"Jets?! What the hell are 'jets'?"

"Planes powered by jet engines, engines that just push, no propellers."

Vaguely I remembered reading something several years before about some English scientist who was developing a new kind of engine but I was having a tough time coming up with anything specific, but I thought he had referred to it as a 'turbojet'. "You think the Germans have them?"

She nodded reluctantly, "Yeah… I don't think they developed them this early in the war in my history, I think they were much more of a last gasp. But I got a glimpse of the one that got me as it went past, I'm sure it had twin jets, I could see the smoke trails as it pulled away."

"I take it jets are bad?"

"Real bad," she nodded, "they're a hell of a lot faster than we are. In my time line it was only about ten years or so and the jets were going supersonic," at the look of confusion on my face she clarified, "faster than the speed of sound."

"Jesus!"

"Yeah, the ones the Germans developed during the war, at least in my history, aren't that fast but they're a lot faster than our Mustangs."

"Crap! If they put up enough of them they're going to cut us to ribbons!"

Buffy nodded in agreement, "Yeah, they are." She looked around, "Where were you headed?"

"I thought I'd stay up high, less likely to get spotted and caught, I figure we're too far east for Switzerland to be south of us. I was planning on heading west until it was and then deciding whether or not I'd try to make it to Switzerland or continue into France and try to get out. Assuming the Germans didn't catch me first."

Buffy thought for a few moments, "Sounds like a good plan."

"Buffy, you go ahead, I'll do what I can but I know you can get away if you aren't tied down by me."

Buffy scowled as she looked up at me, "Barb! Like I'd abandon a wingman just so I could make it home? I don't think so!"

"Buffy, you're more important than that… what you can do makes it too important for you to risk getting captured!"

"If we get captured then I might think about breaking out and making it on my own, but that's only as a last resort!"

"Buffy!"

"Barb!"

We glared at each other for a few moments; then I relented. Asking Buffy to abandon me was just too much, and I know it didn't matter that it was me or anyone else. Buffy did not abandon her comrades. "Okay, but if we do get caught, or are about to get caught, I want you to go it on your own. Right?"

"Sure, Barb."

I knew she was holding back, "Promise me Buffy - you getting back is much more important than me. If you don't agree I'll… I'll march down this mountain and turn myself in right now."

She looked at me steadily for several moments, then nodded, this time I believed her, "Okay, Barb. But only as a last resort! I'm not abandoning my future wife to those damn Germans unless I absolutely have to!"

"I'm not your future wife, Buffy!"

She looked startled, "I… I thought you hadn't decided…"

"I haven't decided! So I'm not, I might…" I stopped myself; then steeled myself, "I'm still thinking about it!"

She smiled up at me, "Okay… You're still thinking about it… that's better than no."

I shook my head, crazy Slayer! A gust of wind brought the sharp smell of wood smoke; I looked behind Buffy and could see heavy smoke rolling skyward from the trees below and not too far behind us. Buffy must have smelled it to because she turned around and looked in the same direction, then turned back to me, "We better get a move on."

I nodded in agreement and we turned and headed west.

Several hours later and I was about spent, even with Buffy helping me a lot I was moving much slower than when we had started out. I couldn't take a step any longer without pain shooting up my leg. I leaned on Buffy a lot and sometimes she almost carried me but even her Slayer stamina was starting to run out. I didn't think the altitude was helping, we might spend a lot of time at high altitude in our planes but we were on oxygen, especially if we were doing anything strenuous like fighting our planes. We weren't acclimated to the altitude, if I remembered right we were somewhere above 11000, maybe 12000 feet.

I estimated we'd probably hiked three or four miles and gotten maybe two miles from where _**Barbie**_ had crashed. I could still smell wood smoke in the air, not heavy enough to be a bother but it was there. We had rounded a shoulder of the mountain, a deep valley had appeared below us but we hadn't seen much of it. We were staying close or in the tree line so we wouldn't be seen, but that also meant we didn't get a clear view of the valley. The glimpses I'd gotten gave me the impression it was pretty well developed. I'm sure I'd seen a town toward the middle of it and I know I'd seen lots of fields, the patchwork quilt of farm land seen from altitude was pretty obvious.

It was getting late in the afternoon, the sun was off to our right now. I'd guess we'd have another couple of hours before it set and maybe half an hour of twilight after it set. We should start thinking about finding a place to spend the night pretty soon.

We came to a stop and I looked up, in front of us was a jumble of loose stone, large and small rocks in front of us and going up as far as I could see. I looked down the slope and saw a wide, fan shaped expanse of jumbled rock; there were no trees in it for at least half a mile down from us. Looking at the edges below us even where there were trees there were rocks mixed in with them.

"Oh, joy!" I said, trying to catch my breath.

I felt Buffy nod beside me, her arm was around my waist and I was leaning heavily on her. Then she pointed to a spot a little above where we were, it looked like there might actually be a path into the jumble of rock, I doubted if it went all the way across but it would be better than trying to get around the bottom of the slide area.

Buffy evidently thought so to, "Let's try up there first."

"Okay, Buffy."

We made our way up to the gap, I saw it was made by a ledge of rock, it looked like the slide had just gone over it leaving a gap anywhere from a couple of feet to a yard or two wide. "Barb, why don't you rest here, I'll go explore and see if we can get through."

I nodded in agreement, there was no need to haul me through there if we were only going to have to back track to get around the slide. Buffy helped me to the ground, it was a couple yards wide and almost level right here. A big boulder on the downslope side provided a convenient back rest. Buffy dumped our gear beside me; she'd been carrying both parachutes and the two E&E bags. I put the odds and ends I'd been carrying, helmets, goggles, my walking stick, next to the pile and leaned back against the rock. I sat there and tried to get my breath back while Buffy disappeared deeper into the mass of rocks.

A jagged protrusion from the rock I was leaning against was jabbing me in the back. Rather than trying to move to a more comfortable position I twisted around and just lay down and looked up at the blue sky. We were going to have to find someplace to stop for the night soon, maybe we could find a sheltered spot in the rocks to camp in. I started looking around; maybe right here would be a good place.

Opposite me, on the uphill side, a huge slab of rock slanted up at about a thirty degree angle. I pulled myself up the path another couple of feet to see if there was some kind of overhang we could use, I saw a black opening between it and the rock it seemed to be resting on. It was about three feet high and maybe four feet wide at the base but it was shaped like a right triangle, there was probably only room for one of us but I couldn't tell how deep it was. I crawled over closer to it and then stuck my head in but I still couldn't see the back of it, I hoped it wasn't some animals den.

I waited for a couple of minutes for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I realized it wasn't completely black inside, light was coming in from somewhere. I wiggled my way in further and after about two feet the rock to my right disappeared, a good size room opened out under the slanting slab of rock I'd first noticed. Like the entrance it was shaped like a right triangle, the far wall to the right of the entrance was close to eight feet high. The titling rock lay on top of it and extended several feet further, but it didn't completely seal so light streamed in through the gaps between it and the rock holding it up. The space was about fifteen feet deep, about halfway back a flat shelf of rock jutted up several feet above the area of the entrance, forming a flat ledge that took up the back half of the space. Over it the ceiling rock was anywhere from a foot to five or six feet above it at the right wall. In front of the ledge the ground sloped toward the front wall, formed by the rock that I had crawled around.

Behind me I heard Buffy, "Barb!"

I wriggled my way back out of the opening and rolled over to look at her standing over me, "Buffy, I think I just found our camp site for the night."

She looked at me a little skeptically but I grinned up at her as I pointed into the hole. She got down on her belly and wriggled in. I heard a long, low whistle, a few moments later she wriggled back out, "Barb, that's beautiful!"

I grinned at her, "Looks pretty good."

She grinned back and nodded, "There's a small stream about twenty feet down the path; it's got good water, want some?"

We'd run across some other streams during our hike, little ones only a couple feet wide and presenting no difficulty getting across. We'd drunk our fill when we crossed them but it had been a while since the last one. I nodded my head and Buffy started to grab one of our helmets, while it would probably hold water, or at least not leak too fast, I didn't want to think about what the water would taste like. I caught her hand, "Look in my E&E bag, there's a mess kit in it."

She dug around in my E&E bag and soon came out with mess kit; she popped it open and took both the canteen and the cup. She was back a few minutes later and gave me the cup, full of clear cold water. I drank it, slowly so I didn't lose my breath. Besides it was so cold it almost froze my teeth. Once I finished she held out the canteen, I shook my head no, I'd had enough for now.

"Let's get our gear inside," she said.

I nodded in agreement, "You go in then turn around and I'll pass it through."

We didn't have any problem getting everything inside and then I crawled in after Buffy. She was up exploring the space, after a couple of minutes she came over to where I was sitting on the edge of the shelf leaning against the high wall. My eyes had adjusted to the gloom inside the cave and I could see pretty well. Buffy sat down on the shelf a couple of feet from me.

"I think we should make a fireplace down on the lower section, maybe about there?" She pointed to a place about equidistant from the high wall, the shelf edge we were on and the front rock, far enough from the entrance that it wouldn't interfere with getting in or out.

I nodded in agreement, "Yeah that looks like a good place."

She turned to the shelf, "I think we should set up our bed there," she pointed to a place in the shelf, a couple feet from the high wall, where a small ledge about six inches high ran parallel to the high wall for almost its full length, tapering to nothing toward the back. It was almost flat for about four or four and a half feet and then curved up for a couple of inches; it formed a wide shallow flat-bottomed trough about seven feet long.

"Buffy, it sounds like you're planning to set up a long term camp?"

She looked at me, "Yeah, for a while, until you ankle gets considerably better."

I shook my head no, "We need to keep moving, or you need to if I can't."

"No, Barb, I need to rest also." She pointed to her side, "We're going to have to deal with this."

"Buffy, how bad are you hurt?!"

"It's not too bad, but it will need some tending to."

"Buffy?!"

She shook her head, "Later, it will wait for now."

I looked at her in disgust but then looked at the fading light getting into our cave and nodded. "So what's your plan?"

"I'll get fire wood, I have no idea how cold it's going to get up here tonight. Can you collect some rocks and build us a decent fire place?"

"Sure, plenty of rock outside and I can crawl around okay."

An hour later Buffy must have made seven or eight foraging trips, a huge pile of firewood, much of it branches much too large to burn as they were but Buffy assured me she could break them up. She'd also made a couple of trips with my chute after cutting off all but a half dozen of the shrouds, she came back with it full of pine needles and had me spread them out to make our 'bed'. I'd gone through them and picked out as many pine cones and branches as I could find and added them to our firewood stash. I folded my chute over on itself a half dozen times and laid it over the pine needles. Then I'd popped her chute and cut off the shrouds and made a second covering out of it.

It was getting gloomy inside although I could see from the light high up that the sun hadn't set yet but we were starting to get into shadow. I had the makings of a fire ready to go when I heard Buffy call from the outside, "Barb, can you come help? And bring your knife!"

I yelled out, "Sure!" and grabbed my knife and slipped it back into its sheath and made my way out of the entrance.

Buffy was waiting for me, looking even more disheveled than the last time I'd seen her, "What's up?"

"Come on," she said, offering me her hand. I grabbed it and she pulled me to my feet, well foot since I was keeping the injured one off the ground. She handed me my walking stick and then offered me her shoulder to lean on.

"What's going on?"

"You'll see, it's just inside the tree line."

It took us a couple of minutes to make our way down, as we stepped into the trees she came to a stop. I looked around but didn't see anything, then she pointed at the ground a couple feet in front of us and I looked down.

A small red deer, well relatively small, I didn't think it was more than 200 pounds, lay on the ground in front of me, its head twisted oddly, "Where the hell did you find that?"

Buffy looked up at me, sorrow in her eyes, "I didn't find it… I killed it."

"Buffy?!"

She shook her head, "I don't like killing Bambi… but we've got to eat…"

I turned back to the deer, half under my breath I mumbled, "Jesus! Buffy where did you find it?"

She gestured down slope, "There was a whole group of them… I think they must have gotten spooked by the fire. I was going for one of the big ones, one with all the horns, but I must have brushed against something because suddenly they were taking off and this one was the closest."

I looked closer at the deer, I couldn't see any wounds, only the head was at an odd angle. I looked at Buffy, I thought I knew what she had done but I had to be sure, "How did you kill it?"

She looked at the ground, embarrassed a little, "Uh… well I sort of jumped on its back and broke its neck…"

"Jesus Buffy! And you were planning on doing that to a stag? You're going to get yourself killed!" She shook her head but didn't respond. "Buffy, would you please promise me do try to be a little careful out here?"

She nodded her head; then looked at me, "Barb? Can you… can you butcher it? I… I don't have any idea of how to…"

I nodded my head and looked up at the sky, the sun was going to be down soon and we needed to do this quick, "Is that why you didn't field dress it?"

She looked at me in confusion, "Field dress? What is 'field dressing'?"

"Gut it? Take out its guts so you aren't hauling all that extra weight around?"

She looked a little squeamish, then swallowed and shook her head, "I don't know anything about butchering animals."

I looked at the deer lying on the ground and then at the trees around us, it would be a lot easier if we didn't have to do it on the ground. There was a dead pine a little ways down; knocked partially over by a rock slide it looked like, "You have any rope with you?"

Buffy pulled up her shirt a little and I saw several parachute shrouds coiled around her waist, "I've got three or four shroud lines."

"Can you haul it over to that dead tree?"

She looked at the tree I was pointing at and nodded; then she grabbed the deer's rear legs and hauled it around and started dragging it, "It's easier to drag unless I have to go far, too much hassle to get it up on my shoulder."

I shook my head as I limped after her. I directed her to a point where the tree was about ten feet off the ground. I had her throw two of the parachute shrouds over the tree, and then tie one to each of the deer's rear legs. The shrouds went over the dead tree with a couple of branches in between so they were spread apart. We had to lengthen them by tying more shrouds to the ends; then they were long enough to reach another tree off to the side. I sat on the ground by it with the two ropes looped around the tree. "Buffy, you lift the deer while I haul on these until we get it hanging clear of the ground."

"Got it Barb."

A minute later we had the deer hanging upside down from its rear legs. "Buffy, can you clear out the pine needles in this area?" I said as I pointed to the area under and around the hanging deer.

She cleared the area, brushing the needles and other debris into a pile upslope from where I was going to do the butchering. I slit the deer's throat with my knife to drain the carcass of as much blood as I could. Buffy looked at the blood flowing out of the deer and dripping to the ground, "We're going to create something of a mess aren't we?"

I looked at her, "Yeah, that's what happens when you butcher an animal, especially one this size."

She nodded her head, "You need any help right now?"

I shook my head, "Not for a while."

She disappeared into to the rocks and I started working on gutting the deer. A couple of minutes later she was back, "I think I've found a place we can dump whatever we don't want, there's a deep crevice a little way in there, too deep to see what's at the bottom. Even if the Germans spot it they wouldn't know what was in it."

I nodded; "Sounds like a plan." I looked at the deer; the flow of blood from its neck was down to an occasional drip. I had the cut around its anus and split the belly and was getting ready to get the guts out. We wouldn't need the head and I would have to separate the wind pipe and esophagus to get some of the organs out. I leaned down to cut off the head and almost staggered into the bloody carcass when I put pressure on my bad leg. Buffy's hand snapped out and grabbed my arm and steadied me.

"You know, these are the only clothes we've got, maybe we should be a little careful about getting them dirty?"

It was chilly but I'd been working hard so I was reasonably warm. I took off my leather jacket and put it on a nearby rock. Buffy was stripping off her jacket but she didn't stop with it, I stared at her as she took off her blouse, long underwear and bra, leaving her naked from the waist up except for the bandage on her side with the ties wrapped around her waist holding it in place. Reluctantly I took off my shirt and the long underwear top below it, then reached behind me and unhooked my bra and put it with the rest of my clothes. It felt strange standing outside with the cool wind blowing over my bare skin, a shiver went through me.

Buffy was sitting on a rock untying her boots; she stepped out of them and then unbuttoned and unzipped her pants and let them drop. She pulled down her long underwear and panties and added them to her pile of clothes and then stepped back into her boots. She looked at me, "Come on, Barb, you don't want to get your pants messed up."

I shook my head no, "I think I'll keep them on."

"Barb, it's no time to get all modest."

"Buffy, it's not modesty. If I take off my boot I'm not going to get it back on, and I'm not going to try to get these pants off over the boots! I'll be careful. Besides, you're going to have the messy job of hauling all the stuff away."

I was right. Twenty minutes later I had the innards out and was starting to work on skinning the deer. Buffy had hauled everything away and was sitting on a rock near me, far from our clothes, her body streaked with drying blood. I looked at her as I cut the skin along the legs and peeled it carefully back, "You look like a regular little savage, Buffy."

She looked up and stuck her tongue out at me but didn't say anything. I finally got the skin free and it fell to the ground. Buffy came over and picked up a corner of it and started to wipe some of the blood off of her hands and arms with the fur, "Buffy, I wouldn't do that."

She looked up at me, "Why not?"

"Fleas, ticks… you don't know what's living in there."

She dropped the skin with a jerk and jumped back, "Crap!"

She looked at her hands and arms; brushing at them to make sure nothing was on them. Then she looked at the skin with disgust for a minute, finally she took it and carefully folded and rolled it into a bundle and then gingerly picked it up, keeping her arms extended she headed back to her dump site with it held in front of herself. By the time she came back I had the front legs separated from the carcass and was working on splitting the body in half where the ribs ended. "What were you planning on doing with all this? It's not going to keep all that long."

"There's a pretty deep patch of snow a little above the cave, I thought we'd bury most of it in the snow, I think it will freeze and should be okay for a while."

"Sounds like a plan, I'll be finished in a couple of minutes if you want to start to move it."

By the time I had finished with the last of the butchering she had stashed three of the pieces, the two forelegs with a good bit of the shoulder attached to each and the upper section of ribs and back. The two rear legs were hanging from the ropes that had held the carcass off the ground. The lower back section, I wasn't sure how much meat we'd get off it but there looked to be some decent pieces, was on the ground where I'd put the other pieces when I'd finished them. "Barb, there's a little stream about fifty feet that way," she said as she pointed away from the rock pile beside us, "if you want I can give you hand and you can get cleaned up."

"I can make it, you get the rest of this stashed. Why don't you put one of the haunches in the cave, as cool as it is it will last several days."

She nodded in agreement and started untying one of the legs while I made my way in the direction she had pointed out. I found the stream and lowered myself to the ground beside it. I dipped my hands into the water and jerked them out, it was ice cold! What did I expect? It was snow melt and just barely at that! I stuck my hands back in and scrubbed them clean, then washed myself off, cupping my hands to splash freezing water on my skin and then rubbing off the dried blood and other grime I'd collected. By the time I was done I was shivering, the cool breeze turning to an icy wind as it slowly dried me. I made my way back to the butchering site and found Buffy waiting for me.

She was sitting on a rock, still nude except for her boots, the last haunch of the deer sitting on the rock next to her along with the coiled ropes we'd been using. The area where I'd done the butchering was covered in pine needles again; I could hardly tell I'd done anything there. Buffy looked at me as I came limping up, "Can you get my clothes? I'd rather not handle them as messy as I am."

I nodded, "Toss me one of those ropes." I caught the coiled rope she threw to me and tied her clothes in a bundle. I put on my shirt and jacket, the wind had finally dried me but I was feeling chilled. I didn't bother with my long underwear or bra but just stuffed them in with Buffy's clothes. I slung the bundle over my shoulder and grabbed my walking stick and we slowly started to make our way up the hill; Buffy walked beside me, ready to help if I needed it but trying to stay clear since she was still covered with blood and dirt.

When we reached the entrance of the cave Buffy turned to me, "Barb, would you get out my shirt and jacket?"

"What do you want them for?"

"They've got blood on them," she replied, "I want to try to get it out before it sets."

"Blood?"

She glanced down at the bandage on her side, "My blood."

I nodded in understanding and untied the bundle. I pulled out her jacket and looked at it, examining it closely I found two small holes in the leather, inside there was a section of the sheepskin lining stained dark with her blood. Her shirt had a couple of holes in the center of a large patch stiff with dried blood. I looked at her pants but there was only a couple small smears of blood on the waist band, I could clean those in the cave. Her long underwear was another story, the top and absorbed a lot of her blood and the upper part of the pants was badly stained also, "You better take these too."

She nodded in agreement, "You head on in and I'll hand you the meat; can you handle it inside?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I can deal with it."

I crawled in taking the rest of the clothes with me and put them up on the ledge; then turned around and took the hind leg of the deer from Buffy, "Back in a while," she called in before she disappeared from the entrance.

Half an hour later I had the fire going and a good sized chunk of meat roasting over it, it was starting to smell good in the cave. I'd found a couple of branches about the same size with forks near the end and trimmed them down and planted them in the ground on either side of the fireplace to form supports for my cooking rod. Id found another branch, cleared it of twigs and spitted the roast on it and put it over the fire. I kept turning it every couple of minutes and using my scarf soaked in water to wet it down, hoping I could get the meat to cook without burning through my roasting stick. So far it was working. I'd taken the remainder of the deer leg and hung it from a branch I wedged into a crack in the back wall, if it started attracting flies I'd have Buffy stow it in the snow outside.

I'd cleaned Buffy's pants, the cold water taking the dried blood out of the waist band without too much trouble. The fine wool of our heavy flying clothes seemed to repeal most things, one of the advantages of spending the extra money to get good uniforms. Any stains that remained were well hidden in the dark green of the wool pants. I hoped she could get the stains out of her shirt, they would be much more apparent in the khaki cloth. While I waited for her return I got the sewing kit I had in my E&E bag out and sewed up the rip I'd noticed in her pants earlier, she must have caught them on something since it almost seemed like a slice rather than a tear. The material came together nicely and I was able to do a reasonably neat job using s scrap of parachute silk as a backing to sew to.

I had just finished and hung the pants up on a branch to dry when I heard rustling at the entrance and looked over; Buffy came crawling in holding a mass of clothing in front of her. As she stood up I could see her entire body shiver with chills, her lips looked blue! "Buffy, what the hell have you done?"

"I…" another shiver came over her, "I took a bath… and washed the clothes…" She was by the fire and crouching down close to it, "Oh… God… warmth!"

She was crouched so close to the fire I was afraid she was going to fall in, I grabbed her shoulder to pull her back; her skin was like ice under my fingers. I held her, not pulling her back, letting her get as close to the fire as she wanted. She was still clutching the wad of clothes to her chest, I took hold of them and gently tugged them away from her; they were almost frozen they were so cold!

I put the damp clothes up on the ledge behind me, then realized her jacket was missing, "Where's your jacket?" I looked down at her feet, they were bare, "and your shoes?"

She looked slowly at me, then down, "Uh… I must have forgotten them…" she started to rise and I held her shoulder down, stopping her, she turned her head toward me, "I'll go get them."

"Buffy no! You stay here and get warm!"

She nodded her head in agreement, "Okay, Barb."

"Buffy, are you okay? You aren't going to fall into the fire are you?"

She shook her head, "I'll be fine - I just need a couple of minutes."

I looked at her; she was squatting by the fire; her legs spread wide and crouching over it, absorbing as much heat as she could. I had been sitting on the ledge close to the fire until I'd moved to be beside her. I'd been using one of the parachute packs as a seat cushion, I grabbed it off the ledge and put it on the ground behind her, then tugged her back, "Buffy, move back just a little, sit on this."

"Want to be close," she hissed as she resisted my tugs.

"Buffy, you're liable to burn something if you stay that close. And even if you don't you're going to end up bald."

Her hand went up to her hair, wet and straggly as it hung around her face, "Bald?"

"Not there, down below," I said.

Her hand went to her crotch and she cupped herself, evidently feeling the warmth she scooted back and sat on the pack, "Jesus! Wouldn't want to burn that!"

I grinned at her and shook my head, "No, I don't think that would be at all comfortable. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Okay, be right back."

"Barb, wait a little, I'll go get them when I get warm."

"No, I'll get them now. I don't want to risk anything happening to them, you'd be hard pressed if some animal came along and took them or chewed them up."

Buffy nodded in agreement, "Thanks, I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't, hypothermia was getting you." She nodded in agreement, "I'll be back soon, turn the meat every couple of minutes, okay?"

"Got it, Barb."

I grabbed the canteen and cup before I left. It took me about five minute to work my way out and up to the little stream. It was fast flowing but there was a natural pool, about six feet around and a couple of feet deep just down from where it came over the ledge in a little water fall. Buffy's boots were next to the pool and her jacket was spread out on a rock above it, the lining scrubbed clean until the blood stain was almost completely gone.

The sun was below the horizon and it was getting dark. I quickly filled the canteen and the cup. Clumsily I tied the laces of Buffy's boots together; the cold water had numbed my hands just in the time it had taken to fill the canteen. I slung the boots around my neck and tucked the canteen into my shirt, shivering as the chilled aluminum hit my skin - Buffy had taken a bath in that water? Damn crazy Slayer!

When I crawled back into the cave Buffy was standing by the fire, slowly turning as if roasting herself, "Getting any warmer?" I asked.

She nodded, "Yeah, not feeling to bad right now."

I put the water cup and canteen down on a little shelf on the side of the ledge; it held them easily and seemed a good place to store them. While I was up I grabbed the damp clothes Buffy had washed and limped to the far side of the fire where I had wedged a couple of branches in some fissures in the rock. I hung the clothes on the branches, the heat of the fire should help them dry but as cold as it was I didn't know how long it would take, "Your clothes are wet but I don't know how long it will take them to dry."

Buffy nodded, "Don't need clothes, fire nice and toasty," she giggled at the end of her statement.

"What's so funny?"

She snickered again, "I'm starting to sound like cave Buffy."

"Cave Buffy?"

"Yeah, some guys brewed up some magical beer one time. The stuff was so good I didn't watch what I was drinking and I turned into some kind of cavewoman, started ripping off my clothes. From what Willow said I was ready to do anything as long as they gave me more beer."

I shook my head, Buffy didn't talk a lot about her past, "You must have had an interesting time growing up."

She nodded, "You could say that!"

I finished getting the clothes hung up and headed back for my seat on the ledge. The meat seemed to be cooking well but it was taking its time, I thought I'd give it at least another half hour. I started scrounging through my E&E bag to see what we could have without breaking into the issue rations; I didn't want to use them unless we had to. I knew there wasn't going to be anything but I wanted to make sure. "Buffy, you have anything in your E&E to supplement dinner with?"

She thought for a moment, "Uh… nothing but some nuts."

I opened her bag and right on top I found a couple of big bags of shelled nuts, almonds and peanuts, "So that's where you stash your snacks!"

Buffy looked chagrinned, "Uh… long flights can make me awfully hungry."

I grinned at her, "Thought I heard you trying to talk around something a couple of times!"

"Damn radio calls in the middle of my snack time!"

"I don't think these will be great to supplement our venison, Buffy."

She shrugged her shoulder, "That's all I've got except for the emergency rations; a handful of nuts might help a little."

"Not much, we're going to need some greens or fruits of some kind."

"I saw some berries on some bushes while I was out, but I have no idea if they're edible or not."

"We can check them tomorrow."

"You mean I can check them tomorrow, you're going to be laid up."

I thought for a moment, "Buffy, what are you planning?"

"I think we should stay here at least a week, make sure your ankle is good and healed. We've got plenty of food and the Germans aren't going to find us in here no matter how long they search. Besides, after a couple of days they'll figure we're dead or have gotten off the mountain and they won't be looking up here anymore."

I thought about it for a minute, "I think it might be a good plan. But, you could escape easily right now; I'll stay here until I'm healed up and then make my own way."

"Barb, you don't listen too well sometimes. So listen up now – I am NOT going to leave you!"

I looked at her but gave up, she wasn't going to leave no matter what I said, "Okay Buffy. Damn stubborn Slayer!"

She looked at me, "Yeah, and don't forget it!"

I glared at her for a moment and she glared right back, then my expression changed as I saw her bandaged side come into view again as she slowly rotated by the fire, "Buffy, what about your wound?"

She looked down at her side for a moment and then back at me, "Yeah, I guess we should deal with it before too much longer or we won't be able to at all; how long until dinner?"

I was taken back a little by the change of subject, "About half an hour, I guess."

She nodded, "Then let's see if we can't deal with this wound of mine."

Buffy came over to ledge and started to sit down, "Hold on Buffy, that rock is not comfortable." I grabbed the parachute pack that was by the fire and put it on the edge of the ledge and then got the other one from the gear stash I'd made between the sleeping area and the right wall. I spread it out next to the first one and Buffy laid down on her side with her back toward the fire and with the injured side up.

I untied the cloth ties that were holding the bandage in place and pulled them out from under her, then slowly peeled the bandage off. Blood started seeping slowly out of two holes in her back; one was at the narrowest section of her waist and the other a couple inches further up toward her ribs. In the flickering light of the fire I couldn't see a whole lot, "Hold on Buffy."

I went over to my E&E bag and got out the flashlight I had in it, I also got out the first aid kit I had, there were some bandages and some morphine but not a whole lot else. "Buffy, you have any first aid stuff in your E&E?"

"Yeah, pretty good supply… I learned some after the last time I got shot down."

I went over to her bag and opened it up; inside I found half of it was taken up by a pouch labeled with a white circle with a big red cross. I opened it up and saw it contained a lot of stainless steel instruments in small pouches and all kinds of bandages and other stuff, "What the hell is this?"

Buffy looked a little sheepish, "It's a combat medic's kit."

"Where the hell did you get… never mind! I don't want to know!"

She shrugged at me, "I tried to requisition one for every plane but they're in short supply, besides the idiots in supply said we wouldn't know how to use the stuff even if we had it. I got that one from doc, he was able to get a couple to have in the crash jeeps and I had him get some spares."

I brought it and the flash light over to Buffy and started to examine her more closely; I used the old bandage to wipe off the blood that had dribbled down her back while I'd been getting the supplies. With the light I could see the two holes were a little bigger than my finger but they appeared to be starting to close up already. I looked around some more and saw a streak of blood on her front, I looked at it and there was another hole there. It looked like it lined up with the upper hole in her side, "Buffy, it looks like the one piece of shrapnel went clear through you."

"Yeah, I found it in my shirt when I was getting the bandage on."

I nodded, "The other one must still be in you."

"That's what I thought; you need to get it out."

"Buffy?!"

"Barb, you need to get it out!"

"But why?"

"If we leave it in then when we get back the Army is going to insist on going in and digging it out. Then they're going to wonder how the hell it healed up in a day or two, and then I'll get to spend the rest of my life in some cage as a guinea pig."

"Buffy, I don't know about this…"

"Barb… just give it a try."

I thought for a moment and then nodded, "How do you think I should go about it?"

"See if you can reach it with your finger, if you can touch it you can probably reach it with one of those clamp doohickeys, forceps I think they call them, in the medical kit."

I looked at my hands, they looked pretty clean but I didn't think they were clean enough. I took the tin cup and carried it over to the fire. When I built the fire I put a nice flat rock in the fire pit, offset a little from the center. I took a stick and brushed the coals that were on it gently to the side and then slipped the tin cup onto it and pushed the coals back until they were surrounding it again. I went back to Buffy and covered the wounds with the old bandage while I got things organized. It only took a couple of minutes for the water to start boiling; I used the mess kit handle to get the cup out of the fire and then carefully placed it back on the ledge. I couldn't think of anything else so I decided to use one of the bandages, I tore it open and dipped it in the hot water and started scrubbing my hands.

Once my hands were clean I used some of the water to wipe off the instruments I'd laid out. I peeled the bandage back again and saw a little more blood had oozed out, "You ready, Buffy?"

"As ready as I ever will."

I put the tip of my little finger at the entrance of the lower wound, then as gently as I could I started pushing it into her, feeling for anything hard. As my finger slipped in past the first knuckle I heard Buffy gasp harshly, I stopped moving but she whispered quietly, "Keep going, Barb."

The further my finger went in the harder it got, I put my hand oh Buffy's stomach so I could apply more pressure, "God, Buffy, I never imagined I'd be shoving my finger in a hole in your body."

She gasped in pain and then snickered, "Barb, I've imagined you shoving your finger into a hole in my body lots times… just not that hole."

I froze for a moment as what she'd said sunk in, "Buffy, I don't think now is a good to be making jokes."

"Barb, I wasn't joking."

I thought for a moment, "Well, just imagine it now, it will take your mind off what's happening."

"Not going to happen, that is not a thought I'm going to associate with pain."

I snorted and then started to apply more pressure, trying to be as gentle as I could. Buffy hissed softly, "Relax Buffy, I can't fight against your muscles."

I felt her relax under my hands and then I felt a hard lump, but it wasn't with my finger. I could feel it under my hand pressing on her stomach, "I can feel it!"

"Good, now get it out!"

"Buffy, I can't! I'm feeling it through your front."

"Shit!"

I pulled my finger out of her side and held the old bandage over it as the blood started to flow more heavily, "I'll patch you up as best I can."

After a moment I saw her shake her head, "No, you're going to have to cut it out."

"Buffy! I'm not going to cut into you… especially when it's not necessary."

She turned her head and looked up at me, "Barb, it is necessary. Please get it out of me?"

I looked down at her and saw how serious she was. I felt her abdomen; I could just barely feel it under the bands of muscle, "Relax, Buffy."

I felt her muscles relax under my hand and I could feel the hard lump more easily. It didn't feel that deep in her, I felt up her side but quickly lost it. I'd have to go in through her front, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"I'll have to get my knife and get it sterilized."

"Use my Fairbairn, it's a lot sharper." Buffy's Fairbairn, actually it was a 'Baby Fairbairn', a couple inches shorter than the standard issue English commando knife. She wore it in a sheath strapped to her forearm on combat missions; I'd seen it earlier in with her clothes that I'd brought in, along with her regular knife and both of our 45s.

I got a morphine syrette out of the first aid kit, "Buffy, I'm going to give you some morphine to ease the pain."

She glanced back at me, "Save it…" She stopped when I looked hard at her, "…Okay, thanks."

I pulled off the plastic cover and removed the wire guard; then slid the needle under the skin of her butt, she hissed as the needle went in. I squeezed the tube of morphine between my fingers, forcing the pain killer into her. I started to look for a place to pin the empty syrette to her as we had been trained, then realized that was sort of ridiculous, I wasn't going to forget how much morphine I had given her, besides, she wasn't wearing anything to pin it to.

While we waited for the morphine to take effect I got the things organized I thought I would need. I found several packets of sutures in the medic's bag; I got one out and carefully opened it to find a thin curved needle with a long thread attached. I poked around the instruments and found scissors and a couple of different clamp things, forceps I think they are called.

I got the Fairbairn out of its sheath and took it to the fire and held the blade in the flames, watching whiffs of smoke from the light coating of oil Buffy kept on the blade, from behind me I heard Buffy, "Hey, don't get it to hot, you'll ruin the temper!"

I held it in the fire for a couple seconds longer and then hopped back and sat down next to her, "I'm not going to hurt your precious knife."

She stuck her tongue out at me but didn't respond, her eyes looked a little lost, "How are you feeling?"

"Dreamy…"

I pinched her skin where I would be cutting, "Feel that?"

She shook her head, "Just some pressure, it doesn't hurt."

I rested the flashlight on the ground behind her where it lit up her abdomen and leaned over her. The tops of her thighs were pressed into my side and I put some of my weight on her hips to help hold her still, "Buffy, this is still probably going to hurt like the blazes… are you sure?"

"Don't remind me, and yes I'm sure!"

I felt her stomach, "Buffy, you need to relax!"

Her muscles eased under my fingers and I could feel the hard lump. I thought the muscles mostly ran vertically in that area and decided to cut in that direction, I'd rather cut with the muscle than across it. I wiped the blade of the knife with the bandage dipped in the hot water, then steeled myself.

I pressed the razor sharp blade against her skin and drew it slowly up, the skin parted under the blade and blood welled up from her, I could feel her body tense and then relax under me. I used the damp bandage to wipe away the blood and saw I had cut through the skin and the thin layer of fat under it, using one hand I spread the cut open and at the same time felt the location of the shrapnel. I took the knife and slowly slid the point in until I hit the shrapnel, and then cut up and down trying not to drive the chunk of metal deeper into her. I put the knife down and wiped the blood away again and got a glimpse of something dark amid all the red of her muscle and blood. I took a pair of forceps with a long pointed end and slipped them in, it took a couple tries before I felt I had a grip on the shrapnel. I pulled gently and drew out a jagged chunk of metal, roughly rectangular about an inch long and a quarter by a half inch in cross section. I breathed a sigh of relief as it came free.

Blood started flowing more freely from Buffy and I put the bandage over the wound and pressed down hard for a few moments, she hissed in pain but held still. I ripped open a package of sulfa powder and sprinkled it in and around the incision I had made. I squeezed the incision closed with my fingers and picked up the suture needle with the forceps and started sewing up the slit. It wasn't easy but I finally got a dozen or so stitches in and the bleeding slowed considerably.

I opened a new bandage and put it over the wound, "Buffy, can you hold this?"

"Huh… what?"

I picked up her hand and put it on the bandage, "Hold that, okay?"

She seemed to come back a little from her dreamy state, "Got it, Barb," she said softly.

I looked at the two wounds in her back, I wiped them clean and dusted them with more sulfa powder and put half a dozen stitches into each of them. I was getting better as I figured out how to manipulate the needle and tie the knots. I shifted the bandage and Buffy's hand so I could get to the last wound, the exit wound in her side up near her ribs. I dosed it with sulfa powder and stitched it closed. Then I opened another packet of sulfa powder and sprinkled it over the entire area. I got the largest bandage in the medic's bag and found it would cover all four wounds. I put it over them and worked the ties under Buffy and over the bandage a couple of times to hold it securely in place.

I sat back and looked at my handiwork and then at Buffy, she was watching me and smiled feebly, "How are you doing?"

"A lot better now that I'm not being used as an experimental pin cushion."

"I'm sorry, Buffy…"

"Shush, thank you… you did beautiful."

I nodded, it had gone better than I had thought it would, "Rest for a bit."

I cleaned up and checked on the roast, it had gotten a little over done on one side while I'd been distracted taking care of Buffy but the rest was okay. I gave it a couple of more turns while I cleaned up and put away the medical gear. When I had finished I turned to Buffy, "Ready for some dinner?"

"Starved!"

She gingerly sat up, wincing as she moved, "Are you in pain?"

"Yeah, what did you expect?"

"I'll get you some more morphine."

"Don't bother, it feels good but it just makes me loopy and then wears off. I'll be fine in a couple of hours, just let it run its course."

"Are you sure?"

"Barb, you're probably in more pain from that ankle of yours than I am. Do you want some morphine?"

I shook my head, "No thanks."

I got the roast onto the mess plate and brought it over along with our knives and we sat companionably together while we ate the meat. We each had a handful of peanuts to go along with the venison, not much of a meal but better than nothing. After we were done I cleaned the plate and knives with the last of the water from the cup and we each had a good drink from the canteen.

Buffy got to her feet slowly, "What do you think you are doing?"

"Checking to see if any of my clothes are dry."

She walked slowly over to the clothes hanging on the far side of the fire pit. After checking them she pulled down her long underwear and slowly got into them. She came back over to me and picked up the canteen and took another long drink and then offered it to me, "Finish it off, I'll go get more for tonight."

"Buffy, do you think you should be moving around that much?"

"I'll be fine; I'm taking it slow and careful."

While I drank the last of the water from the canteen she scrounged around the pile of gear until she found her scarf. We always wore silk scarves when we were flying, they kept our necks from being rubbed raw by the collars of our jackets as we swiveled our heads constantly looking for enemy planes. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and headed for the cave entrance, "I'll be back shortly."

"Take care." I said as I watched her wriggle through the entrance.

Ten minutes later Buffy was back with a full canteen and cup of water and something packed in her scarf which was in her hands and not around her neck anymore. She came over to me and knelt down in front of me and looked up, "Time for you to get a little medical treatment."

Reluctantly I nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I guess so."

She gently untied my boot, taking the laces nearly all the way out and then pulled steadily on it until my foot came out. The pain shot through me and I couldn't stop the gasp that came from me, she glanced up, "Sorry…"

I shook my head, "Go on…"

She manipulated my foot and ankle and I winced as the pain shot through me but it wasn't too bad, not like if there had been any broken bones. As much as I'd been on it, despite the pain, I was almost positive nothing was broken. She eased off the heavy wool sock and the silk sock under it; I saw my foot and ankle were almost solid blue/black from bruising. Buffy gently set my foot down and quickly untied and pulled off the other boot, "That one is fine."

She looked up at me, "I know, I just want to get you undressed before I bandage your foot."

"Undressed?"

"You aren't going to want to be sleeping in your uniform; plus we need to keep them in as decent shape as we can!"

I nodded in understanding and started unbuttoning and unzipping my trousers. She got my other boot off and I slipped off the pants. Buffy folded my long underwear back on itself, clearing it from my sprained ankle, "Is that too tight or should you take them off also?"

I shook my head no, "They're fine."

She took her scarf and worked with it for a minute, then she started wrapping it around my foot and ankle. I gasped as she put it on my skin, it was ice cold! "What the hell?"

"I've got snow packed in it, it'll probably melt pretty fast but I'll go get more when it does." Buffy got up and started digging through the pile of clothes I'd brought back and soon had my long underwear top out, "Put this on and I'll hang up your uniform."

I took off the uniform shirt I was wearing and put on the long underwear; she took my shirt and pants and hung them up neatly on the branches on the far side of the fire. She checked her uniform and evidently it was dry, she folded them neatly and hung them over the branches.

Buffy put some more wood on the fire and then came over to me, "I'm about ready for bed, are you?"

I nodded in agreement, after the day we'd had and then the full meal I was feeling the weariness spread over me. I crawled back to the bed I'd made earlier and got under the top parachute; Buffy followed me in and carefully pulled the chute over both of us, "Night Barb."

"Night, Buffy."


	7. Chapter 7: The Schwalbe

We had been in the cave for two days and were starting to develop a routine. My ankle had swollen massively and I couldn't move around very much so I handled the chores in the cave. Buffy went on foraging expeditions in the early morning and at dusk, other than that we mostly stayed in the cave where there wasn't any chance of being spotted. We didn't light a fire during the day, the possibility of the smoke from the fire attracting attention too much of a concern. Buffy's evening foraging expedition was as much to verify that nobody was near us as it was to find anything. Buffy's wounds were healing nicely; I thought I'd be able to take out the stitches the next day.

During the afternoon of the first day Buffy spotted a German patrol searching along the tree line, she'd stayed undercover in the rocks near our cave but they never came above the tree line. By late afternoon they were headed back down the mountain. That evening after they'd left the area Buffy spent some time going through the rocks at the back of the cave. She finally found a rock that satisfied her, it was a little bigger than the entrance to our cave and she positioned it near the entrance.

We could roll it in front of the entrance and it blocked enough of it that no one could come through. Using a stout wooden pole I could move it into position or lever it back out, Buffy could just move it of course. She found another rock, small enough that I could lift it, but it would wedge between the big rock and a rock protruding from the floor. With the wedge in place no one from the outside would ever be able to move the rock closing off the entrance. Unless they were clairvoyant they would just think it was just part of the jumble of rock. So unless the Germans actually knew we were there and figured out there had to be a cave they would never be able to find us.

It was mid-morning the first time I heard the strange whistling roar, it was so loud and unusual it immediately demanded my attention, "What the hell is that?!"

"Jets!" Buffy called as she headed for the cave entrance. She was part way through when she stopped and rolled onto her back; then she slowly eased her way out the entrance. I had made my way over to the entrance but heard her call back softly, "Barb, hang on while I check it out."

Her feet disappeared and she was gone for nearly ten minutes. The strange sound had faded away after a couple of minutes and I hadn't heard it again. I was sitting by the entrance when Buffy stuck her head partway in, "Barb, want to come out for a little?"

"What's up, Buffy?"

"I think you'll find it interesting."

I got down and started crawling through the entrance; soon I was on the ground next to Buffy, "Follow me!"

She crawled up the path toward our little stream but she'd only gone about halfway when she veered to the downslope slide. I followed behind her, we had to lift ourselves over a couple of rocks but we finally came to a flat slab of rock that angled upward at about a ten degree angle. It was between two other rocks, one about four feet high and the other about two. It was about three feet wide at the back edge where we first got on it but narrowed to about two feet at the far end. Buffy had already crawled to the end and was lying on her stomach looking out. I crawled up next to her; there was barely enough room for both of us lying side by side, we were squeezed tightly together and wouldn't have fit if we wearing many clothes but we only had on our long underwear. We'd been living in our long underwear since the first night, saving our uniforms for the future.

As I came up next to Buffy the valley below our mountain opened out below us. We were on a rocky promontory that jutted out of the rock slide our cave was in. The rocks on either side of us kept us concealed so unless someone was looking directly up at us, or down from a plane, we would be very hard to spot. This was the first time I'd gotten a really good view of the valley, it was a long way below us, over 5000 feet by my guess. The valley was pretty wide and the mountains on the far side were more like big hills rather than the mountains we were on.

The floor of the valley was a patchwork quilt of farm fields and patches of forest. The surrounding hills and mountainsides were almost solid forest. I could see a small river meandering its way down the valley, with what looked like a paved road roughly following it until it petered out in a patch of forest on our side of the river. We were near the high end of the valley and there was a small town about halfway down the valley straddling both sides of the river. Farmhouses were scattered throughout the valley except the area near our end.

I realized with a shock that an airfield took up a good portion of our end of the valley on our side of the river. There were a couple of buildings that might be small hangers or maintenance buildings but I couldn't see any aircraft. The runway looked like it was paved but it was by itself, there were no taxi ways visible, just a grass fringe about fifty yards wide surrounding the runway and then a band of forest around the entire field. It looked like it was abandoned; I thought it had probably been a gliding center before the war. The Germans had been big into gliding, it was one of the ways they had developed a large pool of pilots without violating the Treaty of Versailles.

I'd been on the rock beside Buffy for about fifteen minutes, examining the valley below us when I heard the whistling roar again. I looked down the valley where the noise was coming from and then saw an unfamiliar aircraft descending toward the airfield below us.

From our vantage point we were above the plane when I first spotted it. The plane had a long fuselage tapering to a rounded point at either end. The tail looked pretty standard although the elevator was positioned almost halfway up the tail fin. The cockpit was in the middle of the fuselage directly over the wing. The wing itself was slanted backward slightly and tapered toward the tips. The only thing really strange about the plane was the two large pods under the wings. One pod hung below each wing about a third of the way out from the fuselage and they extended several feet in front of the wing, it looked like a long slim bomb. As the plane got closer I realized that the pods were faired into the wing, actually part of its structure and they extended past the trailing edge of the wing for a foot or so.

I could see a long streak of dirty brown and black smoke trailing behind each pod. The plane was painted a dark green with grey splotches on the top surfaces and an almost completely grey tail fin; it looked like the grey extended under the plane to cover its belly. The plane continued its approach and then landed on the runway below us slowing almost to a stop before turning off the runway. I saw a couple men come out of the trees and start waving at it, directing it into the trees and soon it disappeared under the green canopy. As the noise from the plane on the ground died away I could hear another one further down the valley, I searched the sky and soon spotted another of the planes coming in for a landing.

Buffy and I spent the rest of the day on the ledge, for the first couple of hours another pair of planes would come in for a landing every half hour or so. Looking closely around the airfield I started to make out well camouflaged facilities. As more planes arrived I could see them in the edge of the forest when they were parked on the far side of the runway from us. We had just enough of an angle to see into the trees a little way and if you knew what to look for you could see them crouching under the pines.

As I watched the planes fly through the air and make their landings I realized they were a really beautiful plane, not quite as pretty as the early Spitfires but almost. Late in the afternoon we got a new treat. Two of the planes were rolled out from under the trees, ground crewmen swarmed over them and then got clear, soon the whistling roar of their engines reached us. They taxied out onto the runway and then started accelerating down it, they seemed to accelerate fairly slowly but their speed kept increasing until they finally lifted off after a long takeoff run. They continued to accelerate as they went down the valley and then they curved around in a long bank, they were really moving now. They completely reversed their course and were coming back up the valley toward us; by the time they reached us they were a thousand feet above us and about a half mile away. They flashed by us so fast that all I got was the impression of a flash of dark green and the grey of their bellies.

"Jesus, Buffy!" I turned my head to look at her and she was gazing hungrily after the departing planes.

She shook her head, "They are going to be a real bitch to handle if they start showing up in any numbers."

I looked after the departing planes but they were out of sight, only the slowly dissipating smoke trails marking their passage. Forty-five minutes later and what was becoming the familiar whine of jet engines marked the return of the two planes; at least I thought they were the same planes. We watched as they settled onto the runway and then disappeared into the trees. It was late in the afternoon and whatever activity was going on at the airfield disappeared from our view as it faded into the shadows filling the valley. When I couldn't see any more I started to inch my way back from the edge, stiff from lying still for so many hours.

The sky was rapidly darkening, "Buffy, I'll go and get the fire started and get dinner cooking."

"Thanks, I'll go foraging and see if I can find anything else. Stick the canteen and cup out and I'll get some water before I come in."

The next day was a repeat of that day; we went out to our lookout when we heard the first sounds of the jet engines. We watched as the planes took off and landed, it appeared more planes were arriving and by our best guess there were about twenty of the planes around the field by the end of the day. It looked like a squadron was taking up residence at the airfield. We started making a list of the planes, identifying them by the markings on the sides of their fuselages. We had definitely spotted thirteen different planes when the darkening sky shut down their activity and we retreated to our cave.

I woke in the early hours of the morning to the whistling shriek of the wind blowing outside, by morning we were completely socked in, our mountain buried in cloud. For the next week we huddled in our cave, an almost constant stream of storms pounding us with wind and blowing snow. With the bad weather outside we didn't worry about having a fire during the day so we were reasonably comfortable.

After six days we woke to a break in the weather. The day started out with our mountain retreat buried in cloud but by noon it had burned off and there was clear sky all around. By then my ankle was pretty much healed and Buffy's wounds had completely healed. My ankle was still a little swollen but I could get my boot on and lace it up loosely and I could walk on it without too much discomfort. The landscape outside was covered in a couple feet of snow except on our rock slide; the wind had blown the snow clear of most of it except where it filled crevices between the rocks.

We stayed inside during the day, trying to stay warm without the fire since we couldn't risk it when someone might spot the smoke. In the late afternoon, about an hour or so before dusk, Buffy started putting on her clothes. She noticed me watching her, "I'm going to go out and scout the area, maybe see if I can find something else to eat besides venison."

I nodded in agreement; I didn't trust my ankle enough to risk traipsing around in the rough terrain and poor light. "Take care, I'll get the fire going as soon as it gets a little darker so it will be warmer when you get back."

Forty-five minutes later I was about to start the fire when I heard Buffy's voice from outside, "Barb!"

"Yo."

"I'm going to need your help!"

"Out in a minute, got to get some clothes on!"

I got my pants and shirt and pulled them on over my long underwear, then put on my boots and laced them up. I grabbed my jacket and called out, "Anything we'll need?"

"Bring your knife and some extra rope would probably be a good idea."

I got the requested gear and crawled out of the cave. Buffy was sitting on the ground by the entrance, her breathing labored, "What the hell did you do, Buffy?"

She waved her hand down the hill as she struggled to her feet, "Damn thing was a lot heavier than I thought!"

She started down the slope without any further explanation, leading me toward where we'd butchered the deer the day we were shot down. As we got closer I saw a lump lying on the ground, we came up to the carcass of a deer at least twice the size of the one she'd killed earlier. She had removed the head and field dressed it but it was still huge, what was lying there had to weigh over three hundred pounds. I stared at it in amazement and then at Buffy, "You killed that bare handed?"

"Yeah, son of a bitch nearly got me before I got it."

"Jesus, Buffy, it could have kicked you and really hurt you!"

"I was more worried about getting gored!" She lifted up the rear leg causing the abdominal cavity to gap open, inside was a pair of large antlers, "I didn't know if you knew of any use for them so I brought them along, they didn't add that much to the weight."

I couldn't think of anything to use them for right off the top of my head but something might come to mind, if nothing else they'd make interesting clothes hangers. "How far did you drag that thing?"

"I didn't, I carried the fu… damn overweight bastard over a mile, most of it uphill! I didn't think I should risk leaving a trail."

"What about the head and guts?"

"I put them behind some rocks, but even if the Germans find them they'll just figure it's one of the farmers getting some extra meat for the winter."

I thought about it for a moment, "Yeah, it should be safe enough. They aren't very likely to think it's a couple of American pilots hiding out on their mountain."

"Can we get it butchered and stowed before we lose all the light?"

I looked at the sky, the sun was almost set and there were banks of clouds starting to move in from the northwest, "We better, I think another storm is coming in."

Despite the cold we both stripped out of our clothes before we started butchering the deer. Half an hour later we had finished the job, Buffy was coming back from her last trip of taking the deer meet up to our freezer and burying it in the snow. I cleaned my hands as well as I could, wiping them with pine needles until most of the blood was gone. I piled our clothes onto the two deer antlers and we carried the back to the entrance of the cave.

Buffy gingerly dug through our clothes until she got out her jacket and both of our sets of long underwear. I saw she'd gotten some blood on her jacket carrying the deer. "I'm going to go get these cleaned and wash up; you get a fire going and then come join me."

"Yes, masta!"

She stuck her tongue out at me and blew a raspberry at me, "Okay, don't, but then you get to sleep on the floor by the fire, you're not going to come to bed like that."

I looked down at my body; I was streaked with blood and dirt. I shivered at the thought of that cold water but at the same time thought it might be nice to get clean. Other than wiping down with a damp cloth a couple of times I hadn't bathed since we had been shot down. "Yeah, I'll be up to join you in just a bit."

I crawled into the cave and hung our clothes up on the branches in the corner, shaking them out and brushing them off as best I could. I lit the fire I had set and then added extra wood to it so it would be good and warm by the time we got back, maybe even heat up the place a little and make it bearable.

I went back out and up to the pool where Buffy was, I saw our long underwear piled on a rock, all of it sopping wet. She was just finishing getting her leather jacket clean, "I'm not sure how much more it's going to take getting washed like this," she said as I came up.

I nodded in agreement, "We need some leather treatment or something."

Buffy stood up and kicked off her shoes, "Let's finish the wash first."

She pulled off her heavy wool socks and the lighter silk ones underneath, then she stood up and stripped off her panties and bra. She looked over at me, "Come on, Barb."

I removed my shoes and then the last of the clothing I was wearing. We knelt side by side and scrubbed out our underwear and the socks, then put them on top of the pile of long underwear.

My hands were already numb from the cold of the water and I looked skeptically at the pool of water, then Buffy smiled at me, "Come on - let's get this over with."

She gingerly walked out into the pool until she was in water up to her mid-thigh, it was a lot deeper than I'd thought - the crystal clear water was deceiving. She squatted down in the water until it came up to her neck and started rubbing herself, roiling the water around her. I followed her out into the water, gasping in shock as the freezing water came up over my knees. I copied her and the water chilled my skin to the point where after a minute I didn't feel the cold, I was just shivering. I'd scrubbed myself as best I could when I felt another pair of hands on my back, "Hold on for minute longer," Buffy said.

I held still as she washed off my back, after a few moments she patted my butt, "There you go."

I turned around, "Now it's your turn."

Buffy flashed me a grin and turned her back to me. I ran my hands over her back rubbing harder where I saw something on her skin. I was moving as quickly as I could but made sure I got all the dirt and grime that I could see. A minute later I slapped her butt, or tried to, it was more of a pat since I couldn't move my hand with any real velocity underwater, "You're done!"

"Thanks," then she ducked her head under water and started rubbing her face and hair, a minute later she stood up and started to shake, "Jesus that's cold!"

I ducked under the water and washed my face and hair as well as I could without any soap or shampoo. After a minute I decided I'd done as much as I could stand and stood up and shook off as much water as I could. We got out of the pool and I grabbed all of our wet clothing while Buffy got her jacket and our boots.

"Well, we're going to be nice and clean but what the hell are we going to wear tonight?"

"Nothing, so I hope you've got a good fire going."

I followed Buffy back to the cave, once inside I piled more wood on the fire and then started hanging up the wet clothes. Buffy stood by the fire slowly turning, getting herself dry and warm. I joined her as soon as I finished hanging the clothes up, "What do you want for dinner?" I asked.

"Steak, it will be faster! Okay with you?"

I nodded in agreement and Buffy headed for the back of the cave where we had the hunk of meat we were working on. We had only just started on the second haunch of the first deer she had killed, with all the meat we had gotten from the stag I figured we would have enough to last the winter if we were careful. She was back a minute later with three good sized steaks.

I took my cleaning stick and brushed the coals off the flat rock that was in the edge of the fire. Buffy laid the steaks out on it as soon as it was clear and they immediately started to sizzle. It wasn't the best broiler in the world, the meat came out more like it was pan fried than broiled, but it worked and it cooked the meat reasonably fast.

While the meat was cooking I dug around in our stash of food and got out a packet of K-ration crackers and a dozen malted balls for desert. We had decided to supplement our diet with the K-rations to give us a little variety and some added vitamins. Buffy set our seat cushions, the old parachute packs, as close to the fire as she dared and then sat cross legged on one of them. I joined her as soon as I finished collecting the other stuff we'd need.

We only had the one mess tin so as soon as the first steak was done she got it out of the fire and put it on the tin between us. We shared the steak, slicing of pieces with our knives and then skewering the piece with the tip of the knife to eat it. We split the food from the K-ration fifty-fifty, because of Buffy's insistence, but she ate two of the steaks to my one, her Slayer metabolism needed the extra fuel.

We were careful to drink our fill of water as we ate, we didn't want to get dehydrated. After dinner I used the little water left in the canteen to clean the dishes and our knives. Then Buffy went and filled both the canteen and the cup up with water from the stream. I decided to make tonight a celebration and I got the packet of hot chocolate powder from the K-ration and when Buffy got back with the water I put the cup on the fire to heat. We sat next to the fire and shared the hot chocolate and ate our malted balls. When we finished I got up and checked the wet clothes, they were still real wet - they were going to take a long time to dry.

"Come on, Barb, let's go to bed."

I looked at her and nodded agreement, she went over to the bed area and crawled under the silk parachute we used as a blanket. I threw some more wood on the fire and then went and crawled into the bed beside her. We lay there, side by side, our bare skin only inches from touching. We talked quietly for a while, about growing up, she was starting to open up and tell me about her life as a Slayer and the world she had grown up in. I found it fascinating and amazing, both the things she had done and how the world had changed in sixty years. She tended to brush over a lot of the changes but I insisted she tell me about them, those changes made the background of the world she grew up in.

After a while I got up and threw another batch of wood on the fire and then crawled back into bed and we went to sleep. At dawn I woke, the howling wind whistled by the gaps above us and occasionally a couple snowflakes worked their way through the gaps above the high wall and drifted silently down. I woke with a naked Slayer wrapped around me, her head resting on my shoulder and one of her hands cupping my breast. One of her legs was thrown over mine and I could feel the soft curls of her bush against my thigh. I felt her move a little, snuggling even closer to me and trying to work her leg between mine, "Uh, Buffy?"

She wiggled again and then froze, she jerked away from me releasing my breast and pulling her leg off of me, "Oh Jesus! Barb… I'm so sorry…"

I still had my arm around her, "Shush," I started to pull her back against me; she resisted for a moment and then relaxed into me. "Just let me hold you."

"Holding is good," she replied, I felt her cheek move against my skin and realized she was smiling.

"Buffy, this isn't an offer to go any further…"

"I know, but it does feel good to hold you and for you to hold me."

We lay there together, the cave slowly lightening as the sun rose. The howling wind and the fact that the light had a pearly, indistinctness about it made me sure we were in the middle of another storm. I thought about the fact that I was snuggling with another woman, that both of us were completely nude, and that I was comfortable with it. The later was the most amazing part. Buffy had already told me, many times, both seriously and jokingly, that she wanted a sexual relationship with me. I was struggling with it, my intellect, my upbringing; and my world all said it was wrong.

But then I heard her stories about her world, about the sexual revolution that had occurred and brought sex out in the open, at least to some extent. The calm acceptance she had of her best friend, her best girlfriend, having a female lover, although she admitted that she hadn't handled it well when she first found out. But she blamed herself for her reaction; her friend and her lover were not doing anything wrong in her view.

"Barb, what are you thinking about?"

"Why I'm lying in bed with a naked girl."

"Necessity? Practicality?"

"Okay, that may be… but why am I snuggling with her and enjoying the feel of her against me so much?"

"Maybe because it is nice, because it does feel good?"

"But it's wrong!"

I felt her shake her head against me, "No, Barb, it is not wrong."

"Maybe in your world…"

"No, there are people in my world that think it is wrong. But they are wrong, it's not!"

"Buffy, it's a sin!"

"Going all religious on me now?"

I shook my head, "No… but that is how society views it."

"Barb, society views a lot of things wrong. Not just in your time but in my time. I learned a long time ago that you just can't take society's view. Do you want to hear my philosophy?"

"Buffy, I'm always interested in your thoughts."

"Okay, here goes. There are two levels, or kinds, of right and wrong. There is the absolute right and wrong, murder, robbery, assault, rape… most things people would consider a major crime are absolute wrongs. In the end you can identify all of those kinds of right and wrong by testing them against a basic rule: are you violating another person's right to live their life as they desire? As I heard someone express it one time, 'your right to swing your fist ends at the tip of my nose'. I don't think there is a whole lot of disagreement about those kinds of rights and wrongs across society… any society."

I nodded my head in agreement, "Yeah, although even those can get some debate."

"I know, can killing ever be justified? Is what we do murder? I've sort of come down on the side of 'if you didn't stop the swing of your fist at the tip of my nose then you are willing to suffer the consequences'. I've run into it my entire life, in my old life I'd go out and kill vampires without a second thought, I just assumed they were evil and needed destroying. But I don't know that they all deserved to be killed, just like I don't know that all the men I've killed in this war deserved to die. In all probability I've killed innocents, those planes I've shot down, the bombs I've dropped, not everyone that got killed or hurt deserved it. But I can't control everything, I do the best I can and live with the results. I didn't choose to be the Slayer; sometimes you just can't control everything. The world isn't perfect but we have to live in it and deal with whatever it throws at us."

I hugged Buffy to me, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine, "Buffy, you do an amazing job."

She chuckled softly, "And sometimes it is amazingly bad."

"No it isn't… I can't think of any decision you've made since I've known you that wasn't the best you could make… well maybe other than that time you decided to get that extra bottle of Scotch…"

"Hey! I thought we agreed never to bring that up again!"

"Sorry…"

Buffy was silent for a while, I felt her shift and snuggle a little closer to me, her hand slid up my chest and she started to cup my breast, I could feel myself start to tense and she must have felt it to, she pulled it away and wrapped it around my side, "Sorry…"

I reached up and took her hand and put it on my breast, "No playing!" She snorted but didn't do anything but cup it gently, "You were saying? About your philosophy?"

"Oh, okay, well the other kind of right and wrongs are those that you decide are right or wrong for yourself. Those are the kinds of right and wrong that a lot of groups, especially religions, try to force on other people. But that is a violation of the first principle, they are not right or wrong because they hurt someone but because someone doesn't like them. When you have groups, or society as a whole, determine those kinds of rights and wrongs for everyone then you have lost your freedom."

"On the personal level if you determine that something is wrong for you then that is fine, don't do it. You can even try to convince me not to do it. But if you force me not to do it then you are violating my rights, you are committing an absolute wrong against me. To get to us, lying here together, naked, is not in and of itself right or wrong. It is only wrong if one of us doesn't want it, if you don't want it then I have no right to force it on you and I'll get up and leave if you want. Two women making love, two men making love, a man and a woman making love, none of those actions are inherently right or wrong. That can only be determined in the context, are all of the people freely choosing to do it."

I thought for a few moments, "Buffy, that's awfully simplistic."

"Yeah, it is. And I know there are huge grey areas, when does persuasion become coercion? When do your actions really and truly affect me even though you maintain they should not affect me? Who decides when we cannot agree… You can debate the specifics for years, probably centuries. But that doesn't mean that the basic truths are not valid. Come up with any other set of rules, any other codes of conduct, that doesn't meet those basic rules and really look at it and you'll see that the first thing you have to throw out is the independence of the individual. You have to give someone, god, congress, or the local witch doctor - someone the power to dictate to another person. I believe that is wrong!"

I thought about it, the more I thought the more I realized it actually fit with what I believed although I'd never taken it to such extremes. I was very much a product of my environment and I accepted a lot of things without question. The extreme example that Buffy was throwing in societies face every day was how women were expected to behave, we'd both blown that one completely out of the water. "Barb, did my ranting put you to sleep?"

"No, it's making me think."

"And how's that going?"

"Well, for now I'll accept that I can snuggle with you and it's not wrong, in the big sense or in my sense."

She squirmed against me, rubbing her body against mine and sending chills through me, "Sounds like a plan."

"Buffy, that doesn't mean you get to start making love to me, I said we could snuggle."

She stopped her movement and just lay there, "Like this?"

"Yes, like that." I held the little dynamo against me, feeling the warmth of her skin and the contours of her body pressing against me while I stared at the ceiling and contemplated what she had said.

The second batch of storms lasted even longer than the first; it was ten days before the weather finally broke. We woke to bright blue skies and frigid temperatures. We huddled in the cave; wearing all the clothes we had, trying to stay warm without the benefit of a fire.

It was mid-morning when we started to hear the distinctive whistling roar of jet engines, the first we'd heard in over two weeks. We went out onto the ledge; I was surprised to see that it was completely packed with snow. Then Buffy started digging at the entrance and soon there was a cave like opening, she started crawling in and then called back, "Come on."

I followed her and saw the ledge itself was almost clear of snow; branches had been spread across the boulders forming a roof that was now completely covered with snow. Buffy was up near the edge and suddenly a lot more light came in as she pushed the snow blocking the other end out. We spent most of the day on the ledge; it was quite comfortable screened from the wind by the rocks and the roof. We could watch out over the valley without any danger of being seen. "When did you put the roof on?" I asked.

"During one of the breaks during that first series of storms, I was afraid this was going to fill up with snow and it would be too noticeable if we tried to clear it out. I never got a chance to check it but it seems to have worked pretty well."

"It's worked beautifully."

When the valley darkened we headed back to our cave. Once inside I took off my clothes down to the long underwear, we were still living in them, trying to save our other clothes for when we continued our escape. Buffy began to go through her gear and didn't get out of her cloths, "Buffy have you got some plan?"

"Yeah, I'm going to do a reconnaissance patrol, I probably won't be back until morning."

I started to put my cloths back on, "Okay, but let's get a good dinner before we head out."

She looked up at me and took my arm as she shook her head, "No, Barb. I'm going on my own."

"Buffy, my ankle has healed! I can get around just fine!"

"Barb, it's not completely healed. Besides, I can move a lot faster on my own."

I looked at her for a moment and I couldn't really argue her point, reluctantly I nodded in agreement, "Buffy, hold on until I can get a good dinner fixed, you'll need your energy."

She thought for a moment and glanced at the darkening sky visible through the gap high up on the right wall, it was dark blue and it would be black in another ten or fifteen minutes, "Sounds like a good idea."

I started building the fire and after a last check to insure it was dark enough that no one would be able to see any smoke I lit it. I went to the haunch of deer meat hanging in the corner, it was so cold it was almost frozen but I could still slice it. I cut off three nice sized steaks, one for me and two for buffy, and then thought better and added a third one. While the steaks were cooking I scrounged through my E&E kit and got out one of the K-rations and added it to our meal, the food in it wasn't very good but it did give some variety and all we'd been eating for the last week had been venison.

After dinner Buffy bundled up in all of her clothes. She took both of her knives but left the .45 hanging in the cave, "Are you sure you don't want your gun?"

She shook her head, "I'd never use it; I can't risk making that much noise. If I have to deal with some German it will be with a knife or my hands."

"Be real careful, Buffy."

She grinned at me, "Don't worry, I'm not going to take any risks. I'm planning on coming back - you don't think I'd miss the chance to spend the whole winter with you, just the two of us, do you?"

I shook my head, "Yeah, but your notion of not taking any risks leaves a lot to be desired." She walked over to me and held out her arms, I drew her in a tight hug, "Be safe, you damned Slayer."

I felt her head nod against my chest and then we let go of each other, "I will, see you in the morning."

I watched as she disappeared through the entry way and then started cleaning up and putting things away. It was a long, lonely night. Colder than any other night in the cave, but I figured that had more to do with not having Buffy in bed with me than the actual temperature. Finally dawn came and the cave began to lighten, I smothered the remaining flames but let the coals continue to burn, they didn't give off any smoke and they warmed the cave a little.

It was an hour past dawn and I was starting to worry, well starting to worry more than I had been, when I heard Buffy's voice from outside, "Barb?"

"Hey, Buffy," I called back.

"Got some stuff to pass in."

I went over to the entrance to the cave and crouched down, "Go ahead."

A large, coarse bag started to come through the entrance; I grabbed a corner and pulled on it and slowly drug it into the cave. Once in I picked it up and staggered at the weight, it had to weigh sixty or seventy pounds. There was some German printing on the bag and I struggled to make it out, 'waterless peas' I came up with, and then realized what it must be - dried peas!

I was looking at the huge bag in bemusement, I bet we were going to be sick of dried peas before the winter was over, but at least it would give us some vegetables to eat. Then I heard Buffy again, "Hey, Barb!"

I looked back at the entrance and another bag was filling it, I ran over and grabbed it and hauled it inside. This bag was even heavier and I didn't have any trouble reading the printing, potatoes! I dragged it over to the other bag and went back to the entrance. There was some scraping and clanging and then a large, dark blue enameled pot was sliding through the gap, it had to be at least a five gallon pot. I grabbed one of the handles and pulled it into the cave, I looked in the pot and there was a wad of heavy material filling it. I pulled it out and a blanket unrolled, a bunch of metal plates, silver wear, and cups clanged onto the floor. Buffy's voice came from the entrance, "Hey! Don't just dump everything out after I carried it all the way up this damn mountain!"

I looked at her as she finished wiggling through the entrance, a tight fit with all the cloths she had on, "What the hell Buffy!? Did you rob a German commissary?"

She grinned sheepishly, "Uh… well they really didn't have much of a guard…"

I looked at her, worried about what she might have done, "Did you…?"

"No one saw me, no one heard me, and I didn't touch a single German. And I didn't leave any trail they could follow. They'll just figure some soldiers ripped them off, or they lost it, or there was a screw up in supply. There were at least twenty bags of both the peas and the potatoes, they won't miss one anytime soon."

"And the other stuff?"

"You know how stuff goes missing around base… I don't imagine it's any different in the Luftwaffe."

I looked over the stuff, "Well, I sure don't think we'll have any trouble surviving the winter."

"I was hoping it would be enough."

I grinned at her, "Between the venison and this stuff we won't have a problem, even with your appetite. It may get a little monotonous but we'll survive." I noticed a field grey backpack on her back, I pointed at it, "What else did you steal?"

She grinned at me and slipped the backpack off her shoulders, it was bulging with whatever it contained. She set it on the ledge and then opened it up and started pulling things out of it. First she pulled out a small red apple and handed it to me. I looked at it in amazement and only barely kept myself from biting into it. Then she pulled out more apples until she had a small pile on the ledge next to her, then she pulled out a bottle of wine and set it down carefully on the ledge. More apples followed and another bottle of wine. Finally she stopped, there had to be fifty or sixty apples and the two bottles of wine but I could see the pack wasn't quite empty.

"What else is in there?"

She grinned at me, "How's your German, Barb?"

"You know perfectly well I can speak a little, but I'll never pass as a German."

"No, how are you at reading it?" she asked as she pulled out two large books; one was about an inch and a half thick and had a paper cover of some sort.

"Better than I can speak it." I said as I stared at the books in her hands. I'd studied German for two years in high school and all the time I was at Stanford and could usually make myself understood and understand German speakers if they spoke slowly enough. My reading was even better, one of the reasons I'd taken German was because a lot of the advanced aeronautical engineering papers, until Hitler cut them off in the late 30s, came from Germany and I wanted to read them without having to find translations.

"I thought we should have something to help us pass the time, it might be a long winter," she said as she handed it the thick book to me.

I looked at the title printed on the cover, the first line I could read easily, 'Messerschmitt 262A/B'. The rest of the title I had to work on for a little before I translated it roughly to 'Operations and Maintenance Manual'. I looked back at her, "What the hell, Buffy?"

"I think it's the maintenance manual for those planes; at least that's what it looked like to me." I started leafing through the book, a couple pages in was a sheet with three line drawings of the airplane we had been watching, top, front and side view with the overall dimensions of the aircraft. I flipped some more pages and saw pictures with labels and captions and more engineering drawings. "Well, I might find it interesting but I think you might find it a little dry."

"I figured as much but there wasn't a big selection," she held up the second book. It wasn't really a book; it was a loose leaf notebook about half an inch thick; there was no title or any other printing on it. I opened the cover and was looking at a type written title sheet. It took me a moment to work out the title but I finally came up with something I thought was close 'Messerschmitt 262 Pilot's Transition Workbook'. I started leafing through the pages and saw detailed photographs of the cockpit of an airplane with labels to various instruments and controls in the pictures interspersed among the text. I noticed hand written notes in the margins and in most of the available white space.

"Do you know what this is?"

"It looks like it's some kind of training guide."

"I think it's to transition pilots to that plane we've been seeing flying around."

"Yes! That should be interesting."

"Buffy, we need to get these back to our people, they'd be invaluable to our engineering types!"

"Yeah, I thought of that, I hope we can do it. But we have to be careful, if the Germans catch us with them they could shoot us as spies, and it wouldn't be a lie."

I nodded in agreement, we had every right to try to escape but if we tried to steal German secrets then they had the right to consider us spies of some sort. And it wasn't as if the books were inconsequential military handbooks, both were stamped at the top and bottom of every page with 'Geheimnis' (_secret_) in red ink, they were secret German military manuals.

"Buffy, where the hell did you get these?"

"They were in a maintenance shed, there was a whole shelf of the work books and I saw half a dozen of the bigger manuals; that one was in a corner under a pile of other papers. I don't think they'll miss them anytime soon."

I just shook my head in amazement, "We'll have to think real hard about trying to get out with these. But we've got all winter to learn them - that would still be a good thing."

She nodded in agreement, "But they can wait, let's celebrate!"

The next week passed quickly as we studied the books Buffy had stolen. My German, rusty after several years of disuse, came back quickly. The work book was easiest to figure out, we knew the kinds of things that had to be covered and the context and all the pictures helped to clarify things. Buffy and I would lie side by side under the covers, now supplemented with the blanket she had stolen, and go over the book deciphering the meaning, sometimes arguing until we were satisfied we understood what it meant. In some ways it reminded me of our early days in the 'Squadron Combat Training Group' when we were learning a new aircraft. We'd pour over the dash 1s and quiz each other about their contents, sometimes arguing over the meaning of some ambiguous writing. Now we were doing the same thing, like we were preparing ourselves to fly the Me-262.

I used the operation and training manual to try to clarify questions we had. When Buffy got bored, she could only stand so much 'research' as she termed it, she would often go out on the ledge to watch the valley below, especially if we could hear the jets. When she was gone I would spend my time trying to read the operations manual. It was much more difficult, it was much more technically oriented and there were significantly fewer pictures and diagrams. A lot of the technical terminology was difficult to decipher, although the German's proclivity for creating long technical terms simply by stringing together simpler words helped to some degree. I figured I probably understood about 80 percent of the operations information and 60 to 70 percent of the maintenance information. I had more questions about the maintenance information because I couldn't always tell if I was wrong in my base assumptions. I thought I could usually spot when my assumptions were wrong in interpreting the operational information and I could fix them.

I woke about dawn to find myself alone in bed, looking around the dimly lit cave Buffy was nowhere to be seen. Outside I could hear the roar of a couple of jets; the sound was fading so they must have just taken off. Buffy was undoubtedly outside watching them; she was absolutely fascinated by the German's air operations.

I got up and stoked the fire; I figured I had about fifteen minutes before I would have to douse it for the day. I put on just enough wood to last about ten minutes, if it was down to just coals we could let it burn until it went out on its own, the coals emitted almost no smoke, certainly not enough for us to worry about.

I put the big pot Buffy had gotten on the rock in the fireplace to heat; it was two thirds full of water. We didn't have anything to flavor it with like coffee or tea but the warm water was nice to drink during the long cold day. I took the leftover potatoes from last night's dinner and cut them into small cubes and then sliced a couple pieces of fat from the leftover roast and put them all in a fry pan and started heating them, making my version of home fries. I put the remainder of the roast on the heating rock to warm it up a little.

Breakfast was just about ready when I heard scraping at the entrance and Buffy appeared through the entry, she smiled in greeting and added, "Smells good, Barb!"

"Up early, I see."

"Yeah, you know my Slayer sleeping habits."

"You seem to do just fine lots of mornings."

"Well, sometimes there are added benefits," she said as she looked at me in my long underwear, and then at herself similarly clad.

"Is that why you're such a clean freak? Washing these things every three or four days so we have to sleep practically nude and freeze?"

"We don't freeze!"

"Yeah, tough to freeze wrapped with a Buffy blanket – unfortunately she doesn't do a good job with my feet."

"Your feet are always cold – it wouldn't matter if we were on a tropical island they would still be cold!"

I stuck my tongue out at her, and then relented, I couldn't really complain too much about her washing habits since I preferred the nights when we slept without the long underwear also. I just couldn't bring myself to admit it to her, or to not wear them if I didn't have an excuse. "Come on, breakfast is ready."

Buffy came over and got a couple plates and held them out to me as I split the home fries between the two plates. I speared the roast with a fork and put it on the fry pan to slice up, we each took a couple of slices and then sat side by side on the ledge and ate our breakfast. With the supplies Buffy had gotten our eating arrangements had gotten much more civilized, we didn't have to share a single plate any longer.

We spent the day studying the manuals and talking about what we had learned about the German's jet fighter. The more I learned the more impressed I was with the plane. From what we'd been able to deduce from the training manual and the maintenance information I'd learned so far its biggest weakness seemed to be its engines. They didn't seem to last very long, the maintenance seemed to call for engine change outs after forty to fifty hours depending on use, even shorter if they saw lots of combat. That was very little time compared to what we got out of our piston engines, we did engine overhauls at 400 hours for combat aircraft and that was conservative. Even with the short maintenance cycle they seemed to have a lot of premature engine failures, at least that's what it seemed like considering all the warning, cautions and procedures for engine failures detailed in the training manual. In addition, it seemed that you couldn't throttle up or down too quickly or the engine would 'flame out', most of the time with catastrophic results for the engine.

The next couple of days were a repeat of that day, Buffy up and out before dawn. On the third day I thought she seemed distracted as we were studying together and she spent even more time than usual out on the ledge. While we were having dinner I caught her staring off into space several times, the third time I decided to find out what was bothering her, "Buffy, what's going on?"

She started a little and turned to me, "Huh, what?"

"I asked, 'what is going on'."

"Oh… nothing…"

"Nothing?!" She looked down, embarrassed almost, then looked up at me, her steady gaze almost unnerving after a long ten seconds, "Nothing?"

Finally she shrugged to herself, "I think… no I know I need to make another reconnaissance patrol."

"Did you see something? Anyone heading up here?"

"No, nothing like that - I just need to check some things out."

"Buffy, the last time you did that you stole half the German commissary. You do that too often and someone is going to get suspicious."

"I'm not going to steal anything, promise. I just need to check something."

I looked at her for several moments and she returned my gaze, "When are you heading out?"

"Later, about midnight I think. But I'll be late getting back, mid-morning at the earliest and maybe not until tomorrow night."

"Buffy, promise me you'll be real careful."

"I will, Barb."

I nodded, "Okay, finish your dinner."


	8. Chapter 8: The Escape

Buffy left around midnight and after that it was a long, cold, lonely night. I got up before dawn and went out to the ledge, just as it was starting to get light down in the valley I heard some jet engines start. At first I couldn't see where they were and then I saw a flash of light in the trees near the end of the runway closest to us, a minute later and I saw the dark shapes trundle out on the runway, barely visible in the shadows of the valley. Then I saw pale flames shooting out of their engines as they accelerated down the runway and climbed away. It was the first time I'd seen flames coming from their engines, then I realized it was like the exhaust from our engines, during the day you couldn't see the pale flames that were produced.

I waited on the ledge until it was full light and scanned the slopes below me but saw no sign of Buffy. I went back to the cave and fixed myself a simple breakfast. The fire was down to coals so I let it continue to burn. I put the small pot we used for coffee and hot chocolate directly in the coals; hopefully it would still be hot when Buffy got back. I started to read the operations manual, trying to make the time pass faster, but I found myself staring off into space listening intently for any sound of Buffy returning.

It was nearly noon before I heard faint footsteps outside and then Buffy wearily crawled through the entry way. She got through and stood up but she nearly fell down as she staggered toward the fire. Her clothes were covered with snow and it looked like her pants were almost frozen, they crackled as she moved, "Buffy! What the hell happened to you?"

She didn't respond to me, she got to the fire and looked down at the dead coals, "Shit!"

I went over to her and drew her back toward the ledge, I could feel her body shivering even through her heavy leather flying jacket and I could hear her teeth chattering. I sat her down on the ledge and then started taking her clothes off of her, she tried to help but she was very clumsy. As I stripped off her pants I could tell that they had been soaked and then frozen, her long underwear was wet and nearly freezing. I stripped her out of all her clothes and then helped her into the bed and wrapped her in the silk and the blanket.

I went to the fire and got the pot of water, it was still warm, not hot but it felt warm to my touch so it should help. I went to our food stores and found a packet of hot chocolate mix and added it to the water and stirred it up. I brought it over to Buffy, "Drink this!"

She started to sip it and then gulping it down. She'd finished about half of it and then slowed down some, "What the hell happened to you?"

She shook her head, "I left much too early, spent half the night lying in a hideout and nearly froze. Then it took forever to sneak back out and then when I finally got clear the damn ice broke on a stream I was crossing and I went in up to my waist!"

Her teeth were still chattering every once in a while and she went back to sipping the hot, well warm, chocolate. "Buffy, I think we can risk a small fire, I can get you something really hot in a couple of minutes."

She shook her head, "No, we aren't going to start to take any chances, Barb."

I went back to the fire and got the leftover steak and peas I'd saved for her, it was cold but she needed to eat. Her Slayer body had kept her alive and functioning through conditions that probably would have incapacitated or killed a normal human, but it had to be kept fueled to do its job. I brought the plate over, "Buffy, eat this."

She shook her head no, "Too cold out there."

I looked down at her; she'd finished the drink and was now huddled under the covers with only her face exposed, and probably only that so she could see me. I put the dish down and started cutting up the steak, I forked a piece of meat and held it out to her. With a start she looked up at me and then opened her mouth and I shoved it in. When I'd finished feeding her I put the dishes away. I came back to her and looked down; I could still see chills running through her every ten or fifteen seconds, her body shivering and her teeth chattering.

I started stripping off my clothes, removing everything I had on except for my panties. "Open up, its cold out here!"

She opened up the covers and I crawled in next to her and then pulled the covers completely over us. I took her in my arms and pulled her tight against me, gasping as her cold skin came in contact with mine. I rolled her over so I was lying on top of her, covering her as much as I possibly could, I tried to hold my weight off of her but her arms went around me and pulled me down, "Buffy, I can't support myself like this!"

"Barb, you're just a feather, just lie on me."

I relaxed and settled onto her, tucking her under me and trying to warm her. As the time passed I finally started to feel her skin warm to mine. After about half an hour she started squirming a little and I eased up, she rolled me over until I was on my back and she was lying half on me. Buffy snuggled close and I held her tight, then I felt her slowly relax and drift off to sleep.

Evening came; I'd drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon while Buffy slept in my arms. As it grew dark outside I slipped out from under the covers and started putting my long underwear back on, 'Hey! What happened to my nice warm blanket?!"

"Buffy, I'm not your blanket!"

"Aw… Barb…" I pulled up the pants and drew on the top, "Hey, why are you getting dressed?"

"Because it's cold out here!"

"That's why you should stay in here… without the clothes!"

"Buffy… don't you want some dinner."

Her expression went serious as she thought for a moment, "Choices… choices… always putting the tough questions to me, aren't you?"

I stuck my tongue out at her, "I think you'd snuggle with me twenty-three hours a day if you got the chance, and eat the other hour."

Her expression went dreamy, "Now wouldn't that be heaven! And I bet she'd break down within a week!"

"Buffy!"

She looked at me seriously, "Riding you too much?"

I thought about it, "Maybe a little… besides we do need to eat."

I got the fire going and dinner started, Buffy stayed in bed for a while and then started to get out. I'd checked her clothes while I'd been working, "Buffy, you should stay covered up, all your clothes are soaked and they won't be dry until morning."

"Shit!" She threw off the covers and hopped out of bed and slipped her feet into her boots and grabbed the big water pot, "back in a couple if I don't freeze to death!"

"Buffy? We don't need water that bad, besides I can go get it."

"Nature calls, I've got to go out anyway."

She was back within five minutes, she plopped the pot down, nearly full of water now, and crawled back into bed and pulled the covers around her. "I'll leave the rest to you, if you don't mind."

"I've got it, you just stay warm."

We had a nice dinner and talked for a couple hours. There wasn't enough light to comfortably read the manuals so we just talked about what we had learned and then other things as they came up. Buffy was usually an engaging conversationalist but this evening she seemed distracted, she lost the thread of the conversation several times and seemed lost in her thoughts. I was a little worried that she might be ill, coming down with something after nearly freezing to death, "Buffy, are you okay?"

She started and looked a little sheepish, then grinned at me, "Fine, just got some inner thoughts that seem to be distracting me tonight."

"Want to tell me about them?"

"No."

It was such an abrupt negative that I was startled, "Buffy, you can always talk to me about anything. You know that!"

"Not this… not yet…"

We went to bed a little later, her clothes were still wet and I decided to be fair and indulge her a little so I stripped before I joined her. '_Right, Barbara Thompson, like this is a real difficult thing you're doing, it's such a taxing job to have to snuggle with a nude Buffy_.' We were both lost in our own thoughts as we drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I woke at dawn to an empty bed, outside I heard our morning jets taking off. I'd come to the conclusion it was a CAP (Combat Air Patrol) the German's were running since they seemed to launch two of the jets right around dawn every morning when the weather was clear. I looked out through the cracks and saw the lightening sky was clear blue; I only had about ten minutes before I needed to make sure the fire was doused.

As I went over to it I saw a good bed of coals and the last of some fresh wood burning down, Buffy must have stoked it up before she left. Half an hour later I had breakfast just about ready as Buffy slipped back into the cave, "Morning, Barb."

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah, all recovered."

We finished breakfast and Buffy cleaned up. Then we started working on the Me-262 manuals but Buffy seemed distracted, finally I asked, "Not into it today?"

She nodded her head, "I'm going to go out to the ledge."

"Want some company?"

She thought for a moment, "Sure… tired of your manuals?"

"Our manuals, Buffy, but yeah, I've been concentrating on them pretty heavily."

We went out to the ledge and watched the valley below us. There wasn't much activity, we saw a couple of planes take off and then come back an hour later. By then we had every plane identified, at least we hadn't seen any planes with markings we hadn't seen before for the last couple of days. There were nineteen of the Me-262s stationed on the field below, what I assumed was a full squadron with spares.

By mid-afternoon I was tired of lying on the rock, besides Buffy had not been interested in conversation, she was still lost in her thoughts, "Buffy, I'm going to head in, I think I'll try something different for dinner tonight."

She looked up, startled a little; then glanced around, "Awfully early for dinner, isn't it?"

"This is going to take a couple of hours to cook if I can pull it off."

"Oh… I'm sure you will… are you going to need some help?"

"No, you just work out whatever it is you're thinking about."

I went in and started working on dinner. Low clouds had come in during the afternoon, so low that the bottoms of the clouds were at our altitude. I could start the fire now; any smoke would be lost in the clouds. Since I had a couple hours before dinner time I decided to try to do a stew, something different from what we had been eating. Besides, I could use some of the less desirable cuts of meat. I got out the second biggest pot and cut up some meat and potatoes and threw them in. I added dried peas and some water and started it boiling while I took some of the K-ration crackers and broke them up as fine as I could before adding them to the stew as a thickener.

Buffy came in just at dusk and sniffed, "Smells good, whatever it is."

"Just a stew, but I think it might be good, and something different from steak or roast."

It turned out pretty good and we enjoyed having something different. Buffy seemed to have gotten over whatever it was that had been bothering her, although I did catch her giving me long looks a couple of times. She cleaned up after dinner, using the water that was left in our big pot to wash the dishes we'd used and then went out and refilled the big pot with water.

After she was done she joined me on the ledge, sitting and watching the fire. The cave was warm from the fire burning constantly for the last three hours; it was comfortable sitting there in our long underwear. I caught another of Buffy's long looks, "Would you please tell me what it is you've got going on in that devious little mind of yours."

"Barb!"

"And if you're trying to come up with some new way to get me to sleep with you, to have sex with you, it's not going to work. I haven't made up my mind yet."

She shook her head violently, "It has nothing to do with that project."

"Buffy, I am not a project."

She snorted, then shook her head, "No, Barb, you are not a project, you are my love."

"Buffy!"

She shrugged her shoulders, "You are - I can't help it."

I looked at her for several minutes, "Buffy, I love you to…"

"I know, just not in the same way."

I shook my head, "No, I think I've realized it is in the same way. But I can't get past the physical part, at least not yet."

She smiled at me, "Okay."

I looked at her, our eyes met and I stared into her eyes, lost in thought, finally I shook my head and broke contact with her eyes before I became completely lost. I decided I should change the subject, I looked at the floor for a minute until I came up with a new subject, or rather returned to the earlier one, I looked back at her and asked, "So what were you thinking about?"

She looked at me for a long time, I was about to say something when she spoke, "I think we need to get the information we've gotten back to our people. I don't think we can sit on it all winter."

I thought about it for a moment and nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I think you're right. I can prepare you a bunch of food, enough for a couple weeks at least. Plus we've got more than a weeks' worth of K-rations left, will that be enough to get you through the mountains?"

"Barb, I am not leaving you here alone!"

I shook my head, "Buffy, there is no way I can travel in this kind of weather. Besides slowing you down way too much I couldn't survive in it for that long, especially if a storm came up. I'm better off staying here until spring and then trying to make it out; I think I'll be able to get to Switzerland."

She shook her head, "I think there's another way, a way to get both of us out."

I looked at her in surprise, "How the hell do you think we can do that?"

She looked at me for a long time, "You know those two planes that take off at dawn every morning?"

"The CAP?"

She nodded, "Yeah… I watched them launch yesterday morning."

"You mean from nearby?"

"About thirty feet."

I stared at her in shock, "Buffy?! What the hell were you thinking?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I wanted to see how they did it."

"Why?"

Instead of answering she changed subjects again, "Barb, do you think you could fly a 262?"

Caught off guard I immediately shook my head no. Buffy raised an eyebrow and looked at me quizzically; I started to think about if and after several minutes reluctantly nodded yes, "Yeah, they don't seem to be that hard to fly. Certainly not any harder than going from a Texan to a Lightning and I did that just fine. Why?"

"They're our ride home."

I stared at her, I know my mouth was hanging open, finally I recovered enough to speak, "Buffy, there is no way we can sneak onto a German airfield and get one of those planes started and take off! It's impossible! It takes a ground crew of three or four to get a plane like that going!"

"Actually they use three men, but that wasn't what I was planning for us to do."

I shook my head slowly, "What the hell are you planning?"

She changed subject again, or so I thought, "I watched them the other morning. They've got two tents set up in those trees where they position the ready aircraft. The big one has the ground crew in it, six guys the morning I watched. In the smaller tent are the two pilots and a private, an orderly I guess."

"About half an hour before dawn they got a phone call in the officer's tent, they have a field telephone set up in there. It was a short call, the orderly answered it, at least I think it was him, he said 'Rot bare it' or something like that, then about ten seconds later he said 'Jawohl'"

I had to think about what Buffy said for a minute, 'rotte' was German for a 2 plane element, 'bereit' was the root for 'ready', so it would make sense as 'Rottebereit'. I explained to her, "Buffy, I think 'rottebereit' means 'Ready element' and 'Jawohl' means 'Yes sir'."

Buffy nodded in understanding, "Then he got the pilots up, the ground crew must have heard it also because I heard them start to move around in their tent. Then everything quieted down until just before dawn when the pilots came out of their tent and headed for the planes and the orderly came out and rang a bell a couple times. The ground crew came pouring out of their tent and headed for the planes. The pilots got in the planes and the ground crew did something at the front of each engine and then I could hear the engines start to wind up, after half a minute there was a 'whumph' and the engines lit off. The ground crew pulled the chocks and then cleared the area and they flew away."

I didn't know where this was leading to, "They were starting that little gas engine on the front of the jet engine that is used to start it. That's all very interesting but nothing we couldn't have learned out of the manuals. So?"

"So… the pilots didn't say one word to the ground crew. By the time the ground crew got to the planes the pilots were in the cockpits with the canopies closed, the crew chiefs gave them a 'wind them up' signal," Buffy demonstrated holding her hand above her head with one finger pointing up and making a fast circle.

"Once the engines were going the pilot gave a signal to pull the chocks," again she demonstrated, making a fist with each hand with her thumbs sticking out and then waving them to the side, the same signal we used for our ground crew to pull our chocks. "The ground crew pulled the chocks; they only chock the wing wheels, and then ran off to the side and held them up. The one strange thing they did was the two guys between the planes ran around the nose, not behind the planes, to get clear. And all of them got a lot further off to the side than our guys would have."

I nodded in understanding, "The exhaust from the jets! Just like we stay clear of our props and usually go behind an aircraft, they want to stay clear of that exhaust so they go in front. Interesting, but how does that give us a way home?"

"If we took the pilots place the German's would start the planes for us and we can just fly home!"

My jaw dropped so far I'm surprised it didn't break. My mind was running in circles, screaming about crazy Slayers but I couldn't say anything. Finally I managed to squeak out, "Talk about a Xander plan!"

"It is not a Xander plan!"

I shook my head, "Buffy, be serious! You can't possibly believe we could get away with something like that?"

Buffy scowled at me for a moment, "Barb, I've thought about this for a long time. I think we could pull it off, or at least give it a try."

"And get ourselves killed or captured? I thought you wanted to get the information we've got home! We can't do that if we're dead or POWs!"

"I think we can do it! Could we discuss it without all the disbelief? Just give it a try?"

I pulled in my panic and tried to think about it rationally, finally I got my mind to stop jumping from crazy to impossible and started to think, "Okay… tell me your plan in detail and I'll shoot it… I'll try to shoot it down."

Buffy nodded, "It's not that complex, we sneak down to the airfield and get into the hiding place I found and wait until an hour or so before dawn."

I held up my hand to stop her, "You almost froze to death the last time you tried that and you're a Slayer, what makes you think I'd survive?"

"I nearly froze trying to get back because I fell in a river. The other mistake I made was getting into the hiding place much too early, we'll time it better so we're only in hiding for an hour or so."

"If you're concerned about the time then why so early?"

"Other Germans start moving around closer to dawn, I want us well concealed before any activity starts up."

I nodded in agreement, "Okay, go on."

"About an hour before dawn, half an hour before they are due to get their wake-up call I'll sneak into their tent and take care of the pilots and the orderly."

"How will you take care of them? And why so late?"

Buffy looked at the floor, I could see she was upset but I wasn't sure why, then she raised her head and looked me in the eye, "Uh… I think I have to break their necks. I don't know of any other way that doesn't risk one of them waking up while I'm taking care of the others. I can't just try to make them surrender; if one of them yelled or fought back it would make too much noise."

"You think you can break the neck of a grown man that easily?"

Buffy pointed up to the wall on the far side of the fire where two large antlers from the stag stuck out of fissures in the rock, our clothes hanging on them, "I really don't think a man's neck is any stronger than a four hundred pound stag's."

I gulped a little, most of the time I forgot that Buffy was a killer by design, normal humans didn't have a chance against her unless they shot her, and they had better make sure they hit her the first time because she wouldn't give them a second chance. "So you think you can take care of all three of them without alerting anyone?"

"I think so."

"Buffy, I'm hearing doubt in your own voice."

She shook her head, "I know I can do it, physically that is. It's just that I've never killed a human before… not bare handed or even face to face." She shook her head harder, "No, I can do it… have no doubt about that… I just won't like it."

"Okay, so now you've killed the pilots and the orderly…"

"You come in and we wait for the call, once it comes you answer it and then we get ready."

"I can't speak German well enough to pass as a native."

"Two words? Over a field telephone at seven in the morning? How closely do you think they'll be listening?"

I thought about it for a minute, "Okay, maybe I could do it."

Buffy nodded, "You can - no problem. We get dressed in the pilots clothes, they wear baggy coveralls over their uniforms and their leather flying jackets, helmets, oxygen masks, we'll have so much stuff on no one will notice. Besides all they'll ever see of us is with us hunched over in the cockpits. We'll make it as early as we dare, I've heard them takeoff as early as fifteen minutes before dawn. Under the trees the light is dim enough at that time of the morning they won't notice even if they look right at us."

"They're going to notice when they see us running toward the plane, especially you unless they're pilots are midgets!"

Buffy stuck out her tongue at me; then continued, "They'll never see us running toward the planes."

"And how are you going to accomplish that? You said the orderly rang the bell when the pilots started toward the plane."

"I'll ring the bell, but I won't ring it until after you are at your plane climbing in the cockpit. Then I'll ring it and run to the other plane, I'll be in it before they are even out of their tent."

"Buffy?"

"Yes, I can run that fast!"

"What if the ground crew come out of their tent before the bell is wrung?"

Buffy shook her head no, "I don't think they do that, from what I saw part of the whole exercise was a training drill, they're treating it like an emergency launch. They don't even have covers over the cockpits and only minimal covers on the jet intake and exhaust, not like the rest of the planes which have cockpit covers and tarps covering the entire engine when they're put to bed for the night."

"Okay, but what about the orderly, won't someone notice he's not there."

"He went back into the tent immediately after he rang the bell, maybe his job is to man the phone in case they get cancelled. Or maybe he cleans up after the pilots, I don't know. All I know is he didn't come back out until ten or fifteen minutes after the planes took off when he and the ground crewmen all left the area, I think they were going to breakfast. I don't think anyone will notice if he's not around when they come out of their tent, they were all concentrating on the planes."

"So, we actually get them in the air, then what?"

"We fly to England."

"Buffy, those planes don't have much range."

"I thought you said maximum range is over 600 miles?"

"Just over 1000 kilometers, about 650 miles."

"Munich to London is less than 600 miles."

"And how far south are we of Munich?"

"Not that far, and I bet we're as far west as we are south. We can make it to somewhere in England, anyway."

"And what if something goes wrong?"

Buffy thought for a moment, "Anytime up until we, I, kill the pilots we can abort, just slip back into the woods and disappear, no one would ever know. Even after I kill the pilots if we haven't actually rung the bell we could probably still get away, but there is more of a chance they'll come hunting for us. But even if they did I think we'd have a good chance of getting away, they aren't going to be expecting two downed American pilots are hiding in a cave near the top of this mountain. They'll be searching a lot lower and in more populated areas. The real danger time will be less than five minutes, from the time I ring the bell until we're taking off."

"The biggest problem is that if we abort after killing the pilots I don't think we'll ever be able to try again. That's why I want to wait until as late as we can to do that. If the weather goes south and we can't fly I don't want us to have ruined our chances."

I thought about all she had said, all that she had planned out. It actually sounded as a somewhat reasonable scheme, until I thought about what it actually meant we'd be doing and then my mind went bonkers again. I reined it back in, "What do you think the German's will do when they figure out what we've done?"

"They'll go ape-shit."

"Buffy? Seriously…"

"I am being serious; they'll go ape-shit! But that's not going to happen for a long time. We'll be in England before they can do anything."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"They have to figure out someone has stolen their planes, where we're going, contact other airfields to get planes up to intercept us, and if they aren't Me-262s they aren't going to be able to catch us. And they've got to do it all in less than the two hours it will take us to get to England!"

We talked, and argued, long into the night. I couldn't shake her conviction that her plan was feasible, and the longer we talked the more I came to believe she was right. It was outrageous, totally insane, and therefore would be completely unexpected and just might work. I thought back to our air base, there were times when we thought the Germans might attack and we had aircraft ready to launch at dawn. If we'd ever decided to launch them and by the time the ground crew got to the planes the pilots were already in them, buckled up with canopies closed and ready to take off? I didn't think our ground crew would have noticed if they were the wrong pilots.

It was late, I was tired and my brain was getting fuzzy. "Buffy, let's sleep on it, it's time to get to bed."

"Okay, Barb."

I threw on a few more branches and crawled into bed after Buffy. It took a while, my mind still going over Buffy's crazy plan, but I finally went to sleep.

In the morning Buffy was quiet while I fixed breakfast and we ate leftover stew. Outside the wind howled and we were buried in clouds. It wasn't snowing at our altitude but I suspected it was below us. Buffy was patient until breakfast was over and we had cleaned up and done the other morning chores. We were settling in for another day when she finally broke down, "You've slept on it, have you come to any conclusions?"

I looked at her steadily for a couple of moments, then I nodded, "Okay, it just might work."

"Yes!" she hissed as she pumped her arm up and down a couple of times.

"But…"

She looked at me warily, "But what?"

"If it doesn't work and we get away, you promise me you'll head out over the mountains on your own at the next break in the weather. I'll stay until spring, late spring, and then I'll try to get to Switzerland."

She thought about it, "If it doesn't work and we can't try again, then okay."

Reluctantly I nodded in agreement, "L'audace, l'audace, toujour l'audace."

Buffy looked at me quizzically, "What?"

"Audacity, audacity, always audacity."

She thought for a few moments, "Well, it's worked pretty well so far."

We spent the day quizzing each other on the Me-262, making sure we knew exactly what we had to do to get the planes started and in the air. The ground crew would start the little gasoline engine to wind up the jet turbines; it was our responsibility to get the plane's electrical system turned on so the fuel pumps were running and the ignition system activated. When the turbine reached the proper speed we, the pilot, would open the throttle to let the fuel flow and hit the ignition button. If everything went well the engine would come to life.

By late afternoon the storm and passed and the sky was clear. Buffy and I spent the last hour before sunset out on the ledge watching the airfield and the sky to the northwest, it remained clear and the activity on the airfield appeared normal. As the sky darkened I looked at Buffy lying next to me on our stone lookout perch, "Tonight?"

She looked at the darkening sky to the northwest, "Yeah, might as well get it over."

I inched my way back to get out from under the roof Buffy had built, once clear I only had to wait for a moment for Buffy to join me. We walked back together to the cave and I started fixing dinner. I raided our limited larder and put together a feast, or as much of one as I could manage, venison steak, roasted potatoes, reconstituted dried peas, k-ration hard biscuits followed by a desert course of malt balls and a chocolate bar.

While I fixed dinner Buffy had organized our gear for the mission, we'd be wearing our uniforms and carrying all our weapons. In addition she went through the K-rations and got out a couple more chocolate bars, some dried sausage and hard candy for each of us. While we ate I thought about what we were going to be doing, or trying to do, and the probable consequences. In the back of my mind there was a nagging worry that some disaster was going to happen.

We finished dinner and I watched as Buffy washed the dishes and put them away. When she finished I went over to her, "Let's get cleaned up."

"What?"

"Let's get cleaned up. If the German's catch one of us let's not look like we've been camping in the mountains."

"Okay."

I took our big water pot and filled the next two biggest pots from it, but that still left it half full. I took the small towel Buffy had been using to clean the dishes and dumped some water from the big pot into a smaller pot and rinsed out the towel. The pot of water had been sitting by the fire so it was pleasantly warm. Once I got the towel as clean as I could I wrung it out and put it in the large pot.

I stripped off my long underwear along with the rest of my clothing and hung it on the antlers to let it air. Buffy copied me until we were both standing naked by the fire. I took the towel from the pot of water and looked at Buffy for a moment before I started washing her shoulder. She froze and I could feel her watching me as I slowly washed her arms and back. I dipped the towel in the water, "Lift your arms, Buffy."

She raised her arms and I washed off her sides. I rinsed the towel again and came around to her front and continued washing her. I was as gentle as I could be as I ran the cloth over her breasts, I was startled a little when her nipples hardened under my hand but I continued, acting as if I hadn't noticed. I washed her entire body, forcing myself to touch her most intimate places without reacting.

When I finished with her I stood up and held the cloth out to her, "My turn, Buffy."

"Barb?"

"Go ahead, Buffy."

She washed me with the same detached but extreme awareness as I had washed her. I concentrated on feeling her hands on me, touching every part of my body. When she finished I took her hand and pulled her after me as I went up to the fire, we stood side by side as the fire dried us.

Once I was dry I turned to Buffy, still holding her hand, "Buffy, let's go to bed."

She nodded and followed behind as I went over to the bed we had shared for the last six weeks. I had finally made up my mind, whatever the consequences I wasn't going to risk never having known Buffy completely. I pulled down the covers and got into the bed, Buffy got in beside me, "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, "No… Barb…"

I dropped the covers to the side and leaned toward her, watching her eyes until our lips came together and then I closed my eyes and just felt her against me. She returned my kiss and I probed her lips with my tongue until she opened her mouth. A long time later I finally had to break the kiss, oxygen was becoming an issue, but I had felt that same electrical tingling sensation I had felt the two times she had kissed me in the Savoy back in London.

I pulled myself a little off of her body, enough that I could look her in the eye, "Buffy, you're going to have to tell me what to do… I don't know how two women are supposed to make love."

She looked at me wide eyed for a moment and then she smiled shyly, "Like I have any experience?"

"You're the one that was so… enthusiastic about this."

"I've seen movies… I even talked a little with Willow about it… I guess I can lead a little. But Barb, tell me if I do anything you are uncomfortable with or anything you don't like. But other than that I think the basic rule is just to care about each other and do what feels good."

"Okay, Buffy."

Hours later, when my mind finally started working again after being overwhelmed by the sensations Buffy had created in me I decided that whatever happened I was happy. Buffy was snuggled in my arms and I had never felt better. I felt her move slightly against me, "Buffy, are you awake?"

"Uh huh."

"I thought you didn't have any experience."

"I haven't, not with a woman."

I shook my head, "It sure didn't feel that way."

She rose up until she could see me and I could see her, "Well, I haven't… other than myself of course."

I reached up and kissed her softly on the lips, stopping the kiss before it went too far, "I don't know if I'll survive once you get some experience."

She grinned down at me, "You aren't a slouch yourself, you know."

I had felt her body's responses to what I had done and knew I had pleasured her, "I try."

Buffy took me in a tight hug; we held each other for another minute or two and then released each other, "About time to get this show on the road."

I nodded in agreement and we both got up and started dressing.

Half an hour later we crawled out of our cave, I imagined for the last time. We had taken a couple of minutes to stash everything we were leaving behind and to set a fire in the hearth. If we had to give up or something went wrong and one or both of us managed to make it back to the cave we wanted it easy to set up shop again, especially if we were hurt or exhausted.

We were dressed in almost all the clothing we had, the only thing we were not wearing were our flying helmets. We had our long underwear on under our wool pants and shirts and topped with our leather flying jackets, the holes in Buffy's pants and shirt patched as well as I had been able to. I hadn't been able to do anything to the holes from the shrapnel in her flying jacket, but they were small tears that were hardly noticeable. They hadn't opened up any in the six weeks since we had been shot down and she had been using the jacket regularly since then. We both had our scarves wrapped around our necks, not so much for the cold since they were thin silk, but hopefully we would be flying soon and would need them to protect our necks from the sheepskin lining of our jackets. I couldn't really believe we were going to try to steal a couple of Me-262s from the Germans!

Buffy lead us down the mountain slope in a path that kept us mostly on rock until we were at least a mile from the cave and well down into the forest. Fortunately we had an almost full moon so there was a lot of light; coupled with Buffy's whispered directions I didn't have any problems navigating the descent. When we finally ran out of rock we were in deep forest, we avoided the sparse patches of snow so we would leave as little trail as possible.

Three hours later we were on almost flat land, descending only a slight slope through a pine forest that was beginning to thin out. I thought we must be getting close to the valley floor; the ground was almost completely picked clean of dead branches and stray brush. Buffy's hand reached over and softly gripped my arm and then she came to a stop. I matched her as she crouched down and pointed in front of us, twenty feet away I could see the forest came to an end. It looked like a dirt road ran across our path and on the other side the forest started up again.

I looked over at Buffy, a dim shape in the shadows of the forest and when she saw me looking at her she took her hand off my arm and raised her finger to her lips. I nodded in understanding and she got up in a partial crouch and started moving slowly and silently toward the road. I followed as quietly as I could manage, not as silently as her but I made no noises any louder than the surrounding rustling of the forest. Buffy stopped again behind a tree bordering the cleared area beside the road; I stopped behind her and waited. She was motionless for at least a minute and then made a forward gesture with her hand, then stepped out of the tree line and walked calmly across the road.

I followed her, wondering for a moment why she wasn't running. I decided she thought we were going to make less noise if we just walked, besides if anyone saw us in the dim light and the shadows maybe they would just dismiss us as someone out early. If we were running and someone saw us they would know something suspicious was up. Still, it was nerve racking to be strolling across the road; as we entered the forest on the other side I felt myself relax a little.

We continued to move silently through the forest and a couple minutes later we came to a high barbed wire fence, it towered over our heads and curls of concertina wire topped the fence. Buffy had mentioned the airfield had a perimeter fence but she had made it sound like it was trivial, some kind of boundary marker I had assumed, not this monster!

Buffy turned parallel to the fence and started following it, keeping in the trees about ten feet away. We'd walked for a couple of minutes when Buffy reached back and took my hand; she led me about ten feet further into the woods, away from the fence, and then lay down quietly behind a cluster of small pines. I lay down beside her and she looked over at me and then gently placed her finger on my lips and then pointed down the fence in the direction we had been going. I looked in that direction and about two minutes later I started to hear something and then I saw movement coming toward us. A German soldier came walking desultorily along the inside of the fence. Every once in a while he would raise his head and look around but the rest of the time his head was down and he was looking at his feet.

We stayed in our hiding place for a couple of minutes after he passed and then we got up and started moving in the opposite direction. A minute later and we came to a small depression that ran under the fence, it was only about six or seven inches lower than the land around it but the fence posts were on the high ground on either side leaving a gap a little less than a foot under the bottom strand of barbed wire. Buffy crouched down in the depression and gently brushed the accumulated pine needles aside, making almost no sound.

Once they were clear Buffy had me lie on my back and slowly wiggle under the fence, she held the barbed wire up a little higher giving me just enough room. Once I was through I held the wire for her as she slipped under the fence. She turned back and carefully spread the pine needles and other debris from the forest floor under the fence until there was no sign of our passage. She lead me away from the fence about twenty feet and then we lay down behind a cluster of small bushes, thirty seconds later I heard the footsteps of the German soldier approaching again.

We lay in hiding until he had passed and then rose up and followed behind him, ten minutes later we went into hiding again as he came back toward us. Once past we started moving again, we had only gone another hundred yards or so when Buffy veered away from the fence and headed deeper into the forest. After a couple of minutes more she slowed her pace until we were barely moving, I noticed the forest seemed to be thinning. We came to a pile of brush, dead branches, and other stuff and Buffy lead me to a small hole near one end. She got down on her belly and crawled silently into it, reluctantly I followed.

I only had to craw a couple of feet and I felt Buffy's boot in front of me, I could just barely make out her form lying on the ground, dim light coming from in front of her silhouetting her slightly. I could see her hand waving me forward and I crawled up next to her, the space just large enough for us to lay side by side. She pointed ahead of us, through gaps in the branches and debris I slowly put together a picture of what was in front of us.

I could make out a shape of angels and edges about a hundred feet away and a little to our left, an Me-262 sideways to us, facing out through a gap in the trees to an open field, the airfield. I could barely make out the second plane another fifty feet past the first. Closer to us and deeper in the woods were two tents, the smaller one closer to us, only about fifteen feet away and set back further than the larger tent. There was a gap of about twenty feet between the two tents; the larger tent was about fifty feet from the tail of the nearest 262.

Buffy wriggled a little beside me and then she was pulling the German pack she'd stolen on her commissary raid off of her back and slipping it in front of us. She silently opened it and got out the canteen we'd stashed in it along with a couple of pieces of roasted venison. She got out one of the pieces of meat and offered it to me, I shook my head no - my stomach was too tied in knots to think about eating. She shrugged her shoulders and started eating, occasionally taking a sip of water. Eventually I relaxed enough to drink some water as we lay on the ground waiting for time to pass.

It was below freezing and I could feel the cold of the ground seeping through my clothes as we lay there. I tried moving silently to keep from stiffening up, I guess I attracted Buffy's attention because she turned toward me and wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close to her. I felt her lips on mine and acquiesced to her kiss, and then started to participate in it. The remainder of our wait passed quickly with the distraction of Buffy's passionate kisses, I think if she had kept it up for a little longer we would have made love with just the kisses. I decided it was something we were going to have to try sometime in the future.

Eventually Buffy pulled apart from me and pulled up her sleeve to expose her watch, the radium numerals and hands glowing softly showing us it was 6:30 in the morning, an hour until sunrise and time to get this show on the road. She started inching her way backward, slowly making her way out of our hiding place. This was the first of a series of very risky steps we had to take, and it was one that she was doing on her own. We had argued a long time about this, but she had finally just put her foot down, 'Barb, I'm a lot better on my own! You are staying in hiding until it is done!'

I felt her give my foot a last pat as she inched her way out of the hide, a few moments later I saw her moving silently across the cleared ground to the small tent. She reached the front of the tent and crouched by the flap for several minutes and then slipped silently inside. I watched the tent, listening for any sound, finally after about five minutes I heard a very soft rustling. It was so soft that I wasn't even sure if it came from the tent or just the breeze ruffling some branches. A minute later there was another sound, this one a little louder; the sound of a twig snapping as far as I could tell but I could see no movement anywhere. Another minute passed and there were some more quiet rustlings, almost like someone turning over in bed. A minute later Buffy's hand came through the tent flap and waved me toward her.

I crawled backward out of the hide, bringing the small pack with me, until I was clear. I rose stiffly to my feet and walked quickly but silently across the clearing to the front of the tent, as I came up Buffy silently lifted the flap so I could duck inside. As soon as I was inside I came to a stop, there was a faint light coming from the dials of a large radio receiver sitting on a small table.

The tent was about ten feet by twenty feet and had walls about five feet high on either side. There were three poles going down the center of the tent, one by the flap I had come in, one in the center, and the last at the back wall. Poles down either side came up to meet the slanting roof and the vertical sides. At the far end of the tent were two cots separated by some small tables and a hanging rack of some sort. Each cot held a motionless form covered with blankets. On the side opposite the table with the radio was another cot against the sidewall, when I looked that way I saw the terrified eyes of a young man, more of a boy really. He was trussed up like a turkey, his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied together and then pulled up with another piece of rope almost to his hands. A cloth of some sort was tied across his face, the material stretched tightly in his mouth, gagging him.

I looked at Buffy and she shrugged her shoulders a little, and then mouthed something to me, I thought it was 'too young,' but whatever her reason for not killing him I nodded in agreement. Buffy dropped to the floor made of rough wooden planks and sat cross legged; I sat down next to her. We didn't want to start to do anything until the alert call came; she hadn't heard any movement from either tent until that call had come.

I could feel the tension building in my body, I carefully got the canteen out of the pack and took a long sip of water and then handed it to Buffy. The next hurdle was going to be up to me, I had to take the call and hope no one realized they weren't talking to a German, nor a man. This was one of the risks that I thought was the worst, partly because I didn't think I sounded much like a German soldier and also because this was totally on me. I wanted to get up and pace, to move around or something but we had to stay silent.

Finally the field telephone jangled harshly, I reached it as it completed the second ring and jerked it off its receiver and held it to my ear and mouth, "Rottebereit!" I got out. I hadn't spoken in over six hours and my voice was hoarse and raspy. On the other end I heard a string of German, I managed to make some of it out, it sounded like course and time information followed by wind speed and direction and then some numbers, local barometric pressure I guessed, and ended with what I translated as 'take off at 0730', then the voice went silent. With a start I realized I had to respond, "Jawohl!" I said and then the line went dead.

I looked at Buffy and she grinned at me as she gave me a thumbs up. On the desk by the phone was a goose neck electric light and I turned it on. I glanced at my watch, it was a couple of minutes before 7, and then whispered quietly to Buffy, "Takeoff at 7:30."

She nodded, looked at her watch, "Than should be early enough, it'll still be plenty dark out there. Alarm at 7:20, ten minutes to get off the ground?"

I nodded in agreement. Buffy got up and headed toward the back of the tent between the two bunks. With the light on I could see the still forms underneath, each covered with a blanket. Buffy started leafing through the uniforms hanging on the rack between the bunks, after a minute she turned to me and shrugged her shoulders and held up her empty hands.

When Buffy had spied on the previous launch the two German pilots had worn baggy coveralls over their uniforms, it was one of the things we had counted on. I looked around but could not see anywhere the coveralls might be stored. Buffy went over to where the young orderly was lying on his cot, his terrified eyes watching her movement.

She looked up at me and jerked her head; I came over until I was standing next to her. She spoke in a whisper, "Tell him if he makes a sound over a whisper I'll do terrible things to him and then snap his neck."

It took me a moment to translate her threat into German; his eyes went even rounder as I told him. Buffy gripped his shoulder and squeezed, I could see him try to pull away and tears came to his eyes as her fingers dug into him, "Ask him if he understands that I can do it!"

Before I could translate that his head was nodding emphatically, Buffy eased up her grip on his shoulder. She rolled him onto his back and then sat on his chest, it couldn't have been comfortable for him with his arms under himself and his legs bent backward. She slowly eased off the gag around his head, gripping his jaw with one hand, her fingers digging into his skin. "Ask him where the coveralls are?"

"There are none, Fräulein." he answered in heavily accented English before I could phrase the question.

"Shit!" Buffy hissed under her breath, she looked over at the uniforms hanging on the rack and then back down at the orderly, "Which plane did the Captain fly?"

He was startled and blurted out "White six."

Buffy looked hard at him for a couple of moments and he cowered under her gaze, then she nodded at me and I went and looked out the tent flap and saw a large white '6' on the rear fuselage of the closest plane. I turned to Buffy and nodded; she put the gag back in his mouth and tied it securely.

We went over to the hanging rack between the two cots, Buffy pointed to the uniforms on the right, "He's just about your size, and he was the pilot of the closest plane."

I nodded in agreement and started stripping off my outer clothes. Once down to my long underwear I pulled on the dark blue wool pants and the light blue shirt and then tied the black neck tie. Fortunately it did not appear that they wore the normal uniform tunic when flying, the only thing remaining on the rack was a black leather flying jacket with shoulder boards with three pips indicating a Captain, or more correctly a Hauptmann. I started to put the jacket on when Buffy reached up and stopped me. She took something from off the table next to the right hand cot and then as she reached toward my neck I saw the red, white and black ribbon of the Knight's Cross, "Can't go out without this."

"Buffy!?" I whispered, not wanting the thing around my neck.

She shook her head, "It's too noticeable, that's something they would pick up on immediately."

I held still as she put the cloth around my neck and hooked it at the back, then she worked the cloth ribbon under my collar and over the tie until just the metal cross was hanging at the front of my throat. She patted my shoulders, smoothing out the cloth, and then stepped back. I pulled on the black leather jacket and zipped it up, everything fit reasonably well. I didn't bother with trying to change my boots, if anybody got close enough to notice them it wouldn't matter. On the table were two flying helmets and goggles, at least we would have them to conceal our features. There wasn't any way they would be flying without them since the helmets had integral earphones and throat mikes to connect to the plane's radios.

When we finished dressing I looked over at Buffy, her clothes were much too large for her, I hopped nobody ever got a good view of her or the game would be up. Buffy took our uniforms and folded them and put them in the back pack she had been carrying, but when she came to our leather flying jackets I knew they would be too bulky to fit. Buffy looked from them to the pack and back again a couple of times and then reluctantly shrugged her shoulders. She took a moment to hang the jackets up on the rack we'd taken the uniforms from. Buffy was going to use the back pack as a seat cushion, she didn't want to have to try to mess with adjusting the seat in an aircraft that was supposed to be set up for her, or at least the pilot she was supposed to be.

I took the leather flying helmet and put it on and then tucked my hair up under it before fastening the chin strap. I took a pair of goggles and adjusted the strap until they held snuggly in place on my forehead. Buffy had donned her helmet and goggles and we spent a minute checking each other over, I tucked a couple stray wisps of blonde hair under Buffy's helmet and then nodded to her. I'd kept out my flying gloves and drew them on; they were black leather and close enough in appearance to the ones on the table that I wasn't going to deal with ill-fitting gloves. I glanced at my watch and saw we still had five minutes to go. Buffy held out the canteen from the pack and I took a drink of water and then gave it back to her.

The waiting was getting to me so I started walking slowly around the open area of the tent, trying to keep the tension from freezing me. Finally Buffy called out softly, "Barb, time to go."

I nodded to her and started to walk toward the entrance to the tent, then stopped and turned to her and pulled her into my arms. I leaned down as she tilted her head up and our lips met, I only kissed her for a couple of seconds but it was enough to calm some of my nerves. I let go of her and walked to the front of the tent, Buffy reached around and pulled the flap to the side, we both looked around for a moment, no one was visible, then Buffy whispered, "Go!"

I went out of the tent at a fast jog, heading for the closest plane. I swung around the left wing and came up to the outboard side of the left engine nacelle and raised my foot high to get the toe of my boot into the small boarding step, I reached up to the hand hold on the top of the nacelle and pulled myself up. Once on top of the wing it was three quick steps to the cockpit, I lifted the canopy swinging it over toward the far side of the aircraft. I was just lifting my leg over the cockpit coaming when a sudden loud clanging of a bell startled me, Buffy had rung the alarm!

I continued my movement, stepping into the cockpit and then dropping down into the seat. I grabbed the handle on the inside of the canopy and swung it back over my head, latching it in place. If anybody recognized me know I was royally screwed, trapped in a small cockpit I could not get out of very fast. I started to notice movement outside of the plane, Buffy was already climbing into the cockpit of the other plane as the ground crew came pouring out of their tent. I concentrated on the inside of my plane, slipping on the seat belt and shoulder harness as I glanced over the instrument panel. I grabbed the oxygen mask from the side of the cockpit and slipped the strap around my neck and let it hang in front of my face, it would help conceal my features - I just hoped it was something the pilot I was replacing normally did. I plugged in the radio cord and then glanced around; the ground crew was almost to my plane.

I flipped on the master electrical breaker and checked the other breakers as the plane started to come alive. Instruments started glowing softly and I could hear some pumps start up and then stop, fuel pumps pressurizing the fuel lines. I glanced outside and saw one ground crewman at the front of each engine, the third man was standing back a little on the left side, he gave a 'wind-up' signal with his hand and I gave a sharp nod. The two ground crewmen, one at the front of each of my engines, reached in and did something and then there was the sound of a small motors revving up. I looked at the tachometers on the right side of the instrument panel and waited for them to start to register, I could hear the turbines winding up but they barely moved.

Then I remembered, 'Shit, Barb, think!', the tachometers had two different scales, one for starting and one for normal operations. I reached out and turned the small knobs to the lower scale, immediately the needles swung around. I watched as the turbines neared their starting speed, the one on the left a little ahead of the right turbine. It reached the mark and I inched the left throttle forward until I felt it click into the starting detent, the fuel pump whined and I waited for a couple seconds and then pushed the left ignition button. A moment later there was a 'whumph' from the left engine and a jet of flame shot out the back of it, lighting the area with a red orange glow. Another flare of flame from Buffy's plane let me know she had an engine started. My right engine had reached starting revs and I slid its throttle forward, waited two seconds, and hit the right ignition button and was rewarded with another 'whumph'.

I watched the engine instruments come to life, oil pressure climbed on both engines and then held steady, exhaust gas temperature was rising. The turbines increased their pitch as they wound up and I could feel a vibration go through the plane, almost like the shiver of an excited horse. I switched the tachometers back to the normal operating range and watched as the turbines reached idle speed. I eased the throttles back slightly and the pitch dropped slightly in response. I glanced over at Buffy's plane and saw both her engines were running. A shiver of anticipation crossed with dread ran through me, maybe we would get away with this fool stunt.

I was keeping my attention on the inside of the cockpit, trying to ignore the German soldiers standing ten feet away. I did not want to make eye contact with any of them and have them realize I wasn't who they thought I was. I glanced out quickly, the two ground crewmen were waiting patiently outboard of either engine, the third man stood out by the left wing tip. I moved the control stick making sure all the control surfaces responded, then put my feet on the rudder pedals and worked them. I put my toes on the brakes and pressed down firmly. I stuck my hands up, fists clenched with my thumbs sticking out, and waved them outward a couple of times.

The two ground crewmen by the engines disappeared under the wind and then reappeared a couple moments later holding the wheel chocks up in their hands. I nodded my head and returned my attention to the cockpit as the one crewman on the right ran around the front of the plane and joined the other two now standing about twenty feet off to the side of my plane. I glanced over toward Buffy's plane and saw the two ground crewmen on the left of her plane running around it.

I gave them another fifteen seconds and then started easing the throttles forward with my left hand and released the pressure on the brakes. The turbine whine increased and as I moved the throttles past the starting detents I felt a slight jerk and I was rolling. I gave her just a touch more throttle and we were rolling at a moderate walk, I saw the three ground crewmen off to the left of my plane come to attention and the one in the middle raised his hand to his forehead. I didn't know what to do but decided I had a role to play and raised my right hand in a quick salute.

I rolled toward the runway, off to my right and a little behind me Buffy's plane followed along. When we reached the cleared area beside the runway I gently applied some right brake and she swung around until we were paralleling the runway, Buffy followed along behind. As we neared the end of the runway I gave her some left brake until I had swung onto the runway and turned 180 degrees. I applied both brakes and throttled back a little, slowing my roll so Buffy could swing around and get in position off to my right. I pulled the flaps down to the takeoff position and waited impatiently until Buffy was on the other side of the runway and just a little behind me.

As soon as she was in position I released the brakes and started sliding the two throttles forward. The turbine whine increased and I felt myself being shoved softly backward, she accelerated slowly down the runway, much more slowly than I was used to in a Mustang. But the speed kept increasing and then I felt her controls start to bite and she became lighter and the rate of acceleration was increasing more quickly. We were three quarters of the way down the runway when I eased back on the stick and she lifted smoothly into the air.

As we climbed away from the airfield I cleaned her up, raising the gear and flaps while keeping her in a gentle climb. We had a long way to go and I didn't want to burn any fuel I didn't have to. I kept my acceleration a little slow until Buffy caught up and passed me; then I moved across and got into positions off her right wing. I saw her glance over at me as I pulled into position, I could see her grin and then she gave me a big thumbs up. All I could do was shake my head and mouth 'crazy Slayer', she grinned back at me. Then we were passing through 12 thousand feet and I strapped the oxygen mask in place, it took me a couple of minutes to get the thing fitted to my face and secure. We continued our climb and settled on our west-northwest course to England.

As we settled in my body started shivering in reaction, we had pulled it off, something I had never really believed we would be able to do, and now we were headed home. I tried to breathe deeply without hyperventilating, not a good thing to do on oxygen, and calm my shaking body. I realized that in all the combat flying I had done I had never been as scared as I had been for the last hour. Not being able to relieve the stress in any way, having to maintain the outward calm, the tension had been almost unbearable.

We reached twenty thousand feet and settled into the most economical cruise the Me-262 had, a little over three hundred miles an hour, much faster than I was used to. It would take us about two hours to reach England and freedom!

An hour and a half later and I was starting to calm down when Buffy's voice filled my earphones, "Bandits!"

I looked ahead and moments later I saw the black dots, the more I looked the more I saw. It looked like there was a wall of them in front of us. I slid the throttles forward, ever aware that I had to change their settings slowly or I could flame out an engine, and followed Buffy as she started climbing and accelerating. While I was sure we could outrun the planes ahead of us, probably even climb higher than they could go, we didn't have the fuel to do it and make it to England.

We continued our climb and I saw what Buffy was aiming for, there was a thin patch a little higher and to the north of our course. A half dozen puffs of smoke erupted from the nose of Buffy's plane, it took me a moment to realize she was test firing her guns. The Me-262 was armed with four 30mm cannons, slow firing compared to our machine guns but one round from those guns could destroy a fighter, four or five would knock down a four engine bomber. They had a relatively low muzzle velocity, combined with the speed of the Me-262 you had to be a good shot to hit anything and you didn't have much time to shoot, but if you did hit something it was probably going down.

I swung the gun sight out of its stowed position off to the right and locked it in place in the center of my windscreen. I turned on the armament panel and charged each of the four cannons. I flipped the safety cover off of the firing button on the top of the stick for the top two cannons; it rotated around to the front of the stick and formed the trigger to activate the firing button for the outer two cannons. I squeezed the trigger momentarily and heard the heavy thump/thump/thump of the cannons firing; they sounded like a heavy pneumatic hammer. The lights on the armament panel winked as the guns fired indicating they were operating correctly. I pressed the top button and the upper two cannons did their thump/thump/thump and jets of flame flashed out of the nose in front of me and puffs of smoke shot out and then disintegrated in the wind streaming past me.

It had only taken me a few seconds to arm and test fire the guns but in that time we had closed much of the distance to the fighters in front of us. There must have been a couple hundred fighters blocking our way, the opening Buffy was heading for seemed to be closing rapidly. Suddenly Buffy's wing flew up and over as she started a banking dive to the left, I followed behind her trying to keep my position. The fighters in front of us started to react, some turning toward us and others, now out of position, trying to reverse their courses.

I should have known Buffy was only feinting; she never wanted to do what the enemy expected her to do. As our dive increased so did our speed, we were rapidly closing on them. Two miles out and Buffy put us in a hard climbing turn back toward an area where our rapid course changes had created confusion in the German's neatly ordered groups. As we screamed in I realized Buffy wasn't trying for one of the holes in their formation, she was heading right for what looked like a squadron of Focke-Wulf 190s.

She shifted our course slightly as we neared them and then her guns were firing, looking through my gun sight I saw a 190 and squeezed the trigger and pressed the button and all four cannons began firing. In half a second the enemy plane was below my sight and I let up on the triggers, then my shells reached it and it seemed to disintegrate. As we flashed through the first flight I saw two other planes had been Buffy's victims, both were disintegrating as they tumbled through the air.

We were past the next two flights of the squadron before we could react, but a plane from the final flight filled my sight and I fired again. The heavy cannon rounds hit the outer wing, I wasn't used to the drop the low velocity shells had, but the wing blew apart as I walked the fire toward the fuselage, blowing the plane to pieces. I saw his wingman's fuselage break in half as Buffy's rounds slammed into it just behind the cockpit. I let up on the triggers and we were through! Then I glanced above us, diving toward us was another flight, far enough in front of us that they were going to be able to make the intercept, I pressed the transmit button, "One o'clock high!"

Buffy immediately reacted, or maybe she had already seen them, because we started a climbing curve directly toward them even before I finished transmitting. Then Buffy increased our rate of climb even more and her cannon were firing, I watched in fascination as the shells arced away from her in a long lazy curve and came down on the leader's wingman. I think only two shells hit the plane's wing but it was enough to blow the wing off the plane and send it tumbling across the sky. The other planes in the flight dodged to avoid the wreck in their midst and Buffy put us back in a diving curve. By the time they recovered we were streaking past them. In front of us I could only see clear sky.

I looked behind us and I could see the three 190s still chasing us, further behind them I saw the dirty yellow of a German parachute, evidently Buffy's last victim had survived. A strange voice filled my earphones, it had the cadence of the high class clipped British English we were used to hearing among the RAF pilots but it was subtly accented, "Colonel Summers?"

After a moment I heard Buffy respond, "Yes?"

"I guess congratulations are in order, Colonel, and you too Major Thompson. This is quite a feat you've accomplished."

"Who is this?" Buffy asked.

"Oberst… Colonel Adolf Galland, Geschwaderkommodor, ah… commanding officer, JG 26."

After several seconds Buffy responded, "Ah… well, sorry we can't play some more."

"I am sorry also that we cannot 'play' as you so artfully put it. Good luck, Colonel… and Major."

I looked back at the 190s losing ground behind us. The lead 190 rocked its wings several times then all of them turned away in a diving decent. I turned back forward and looked over at Buffy; she was looking around and after a couple moments caught my eye. I lifted my hands in a 'what the hell' expression and she thought for a moment and then shrugged her shoulders; I couldn't see much of her face under the oxygen mask and goggles but I thought I saw a twinkle in her eye and imagined she was grinning from ear to ear.

I turned my attention to what was in front of us and I saw a wide expanse of water, we had reached the coast.

Foot Note: If you want to see an Me-262 flying take a look at the You Tube clip "Me 262 Flys Again", the first half is of a two seat version, the second half starting about 1:40 is of a single seat version like Buffy and Barb stole (link is  watch?NR=1&v=RYXd60D_kgQ if it is working).

Thanks to 'Stormbirds at War' website for the detailed descriptions of Me-262 cockpits and instruments, if I got anything wrong it is completely on me.


	9. Chapter 9: The Return

As we neared the coast a small city appeared to the south of us. There were some bursts of flack as we passed it but none of it came close enough to bother us. To the north was a wide inlet and what appeared to be a large island, I recognized it as Zeeland in the Netherlands which meant the city to the south was Brugge.

Minutes later we crossed the coast and Buffy banked us until we were flying almost due west. We had argued about what we were going to do if, or as Buffy maintained when, we reached England. I was for setting down at the first available place; she insisted we fly home to Spilsby. I did not like the idea of having to fly that much further north given the range of the Me-262, it would be stretching it. She didn't want to try to come in to some strange airfield, she was also concerned, and I had to concede her point, that the airfields in southern England were much more heavily defended and much more alert for German intruders. It would be very ironic if we got shot down when we were almost home.

The argument that finally convinced me was the danger of being intercepted. The British had a detection system established all along the coast and would be able to track us as we approached. If we were losing altitude and slowing down to find an airfield to land at we could get bounced. Given the Me-262's poor acceleration and responses at low speed we would be the worst situation possible, we would be sitting ducks. So we had decided to try to make it to Spilsby, we knew that field intimately and we would be able to make a straight in approach, maintaining speed and altitude until the last couple of minutes.

We still had to worry about getting intercepted but to counter that we had decided to head for London initially. Once we got over Britain itself the detection system did not function as well, instead they relied on aircraft spotters and listening posts. We would be high and difficult to track. I also thought it was highly unlikely that any Me-262s had been over Britain, their ground stations wouldn't have any experience with aircraft moving as fast as we were or sounding like we did.

Ahead of us I saw the coast of England rise out of the water, minutes later we were over the coast, I shook my head in amazement – we had made it! Halfway to London we banked to the north and set our course for Spilsby. I was keeping a sharp eye on my fuel gauges, they were almost to empty and then the red low fuel warning light came on, I had fifteen minutes of fuel left. I pressed the transmit button on the stick, "Buffy, Low fuel."

Buffy responded immediately, "Roger, ditto… abort?"

I thought for only a moment, we would be starting our decent pretty quick, it would be close but we should be able to stretch it, "Negative."

Five minutes later Buffy nosed over into a shallow dive, I followed her and pulled back the throttles to just above idle, our dive kept our speed up. So far I had seen no sign of any other aircraft; I hoped our luck would hold for another ten minutes. The deep bay of 'The Wash' flashed under us and I could see the small town of Boston to our left. Buffy kept us diving until we were only a couple hundred feet above the rolling hills and still doing well over three hundred miles an hour.

I glanced nervously at my fuel gauges, both needles were resting on their pegs, empty as far as they were concerned but the turbines still whined. We were bleeding speed slowly as we rocketed over the patch work quilt of farm land. Finally, ahead of us, I picked out the flat expanse of the airfield, indistinct in the distance but I knew it well.

Buffy's flaps started down and her plane started slowing more quickly, I matched her, keeping my position thirty feet off her wing tip and just a little behind. Our speed was coming down more quickly now but we were still going too fast, both of us dropped our landing gear at the same moment, the additional drag slowing us quickly as we flashed over the small wood at the end of the runway.

We were dropping quickly as we crossed the wood and then I saw the perimeter fence in front of us. Movement to my left caught my eye and I saw a couple soldiers diving into the pit containing one of our 20mm anti-aircraft guns, another soldier was frantically trying to remove the cover from the gun barrel. As I crossed the perimeter fence there was a soft 'whumph' and one of the turbines started whining down, the plane lurched a little to the left with the loss of power but I straightened her out. I pulled back on the stick, flaring her the last fifty feet until my main gear touched down ten feet past the start of the runway.

Buffy was ahead of me, her plane settled to the runway, the main wheels touching down with small puffs of smoke. We were rolling fast, losing speed only slowly as the wheels thumped over the pierced steel runway and a small vibration set in. Another soft 'whumph' and my second engine shut down. Ahead of me a jet of flame came from Buffy's right engine and then a puff of dirty grey smoke, followed moments later with the same final jet and then smoke as her two engines ran out of fuel.

We let the planes roll, using the brakes lightly, and used the entire runway, coming to a stop side by side fifty feet from the end of the runway. In a daze I reached over and safed the guns and then flipped off the master circuit breaker. It was quiet except for the occasional ping of cooling metal and the sound of a soft wind blowing against the canopy, nothing like the screaming air and whining turbines of the last two hours. My mind was numb, I couldn't seem to comprehend that we had actually pulled it off.

I noticed movement to my left and watched as Buffy swung her canopy open, then she was rising up out of her plane. Her helmet was off and her blonde hair blew in the breeze, she stood straight up and lifted her hands high above her head. A length of white cloth, parachute silk I realized, streamed out from her hands as she held them high above her head.

I came out of my daze and released my seatbelts and removed my helmet. I unlatched the canopy and swung it open and stood up on my seat. I imitated Buffy and raised my hands high over my head but I didn't have any parachute silk to fly. I looked around, in front of us I saw a soldier running toward us, a rifle in his hands waving between me and Buffy, one of the airfield perimeter guards. As he neared the end of the runway Buffy's voice rang out, "Peterson! If you shoot me I swear I'll haunt you for the rest of your life!"

The soldier came stumbling to a stop about ten feet in front of us, his rifle still held against his shoulder but he wasn't aiming it at us any more, instead he was staring at us round eyed, his eyes slowly shifting from Buffy to me and back again, "Colonel Summers?! Major Thompson?!"

"Peterson, safe your weapon and shoulder it!"

He slowly lowered his rifle and then I heard the welcome sound of the safety clicking on and then he slung the rifle over his shoulder. He seemed to snap out of his daze and came to attention and raised his hand in salute, not technically correct since he was armed he should be giving us a rifle salute but I wasn't about to quibble. Buffy snapped her hand to her forehead in a quick response, "At ease, Peterson."

He dropped his hand, after a moment a grin started forming, "Welcome back, Colonel! And you to Major!"

"Thank you, Peterson; it's good to be back."

I turned my head at the sound of squealing tires behind us, two 6x6 trucks came to a stop and soldiers started jumping out from under the canvas covered beds, their rifles held across their chests. Buffy and I were still standing with our arms high above our heads. I watched as a jeep swung wide around the planes and then come to a stop next to Peterson, two soldiers leaped out of the back and pointed their rifles at us. A lieutenant stood up in the passenger seat and stared at us, Buffy's voice broke the silence, "Lieutenant Fredericks! Have your men shoulder their weapons, we don't want anyone getting shot this morning!"

Fredericks just stared at her in amazement, and then I saw his eyes swivel to mine. The two soldiers gaped at us for a moment and then rose from their crouch and slung their rifles over their shoulders. Buffy tried again, "Lieutenant Fredericks!"

He seemed to shake himself and then he snapped to attention and saluted her, "Sir!"

Buffy waved her hand at her forehead again, "Fredericks, have half your men set up a perimeter around these planes, I don't want anyone coming close to them without my or Major Thompson's express permission." Fredericks had dropped his hand but still seemed stunned, "Move it, Lieutenant!"

Finally he seemed to come out of it, "First squad, set a perimeter! Second squad back on the truck! Sergeant McHenry, nobody is to get within 20 feet of these planes!"

From behind us I heard a deep voice, "Yes sir! You heard the Lieutenant! First squad set a perimeter!"

There was a scramble of bodies and soon a ring of soldiers were surrounding us, they weren't doing a very good job of looking outward, most of them had their heads turned and were watching us but at least all their rifles were slung over their shoulders and not pointed at us. Buffy and I lowered our hands and then we got out of the cockpits and walked along the wing to the engine nacelle where we used the built in steps to get to the ground. As we walked up to the Lieutenant he got out of the jeep and stepped toward us. He came to attention as we got close, "Welcome back, sirs!"

Buffy grinned, "At ease! Thank you, Fredericks; it will be good to be back once people stop pointing guns at us every couple of minutes."

Fredericks relaxed and then started to grin, "It might help if you weren't dressed as you were."

Buffy shook her head ruefully, "Yeah, but it's too damn cold to be out here without a jacket, besides it's not much better underneath and I'm certainly not stripping to my underwear!"

Fredericks chuckled, "How the he… how did you do it?"

Buffy shook her head, "It's a long story, Lieutenant."

The sound of another jeep approaching drew our attention, it pulled around the planes and a couple soldiers moved aside to let it come through their ring. It pulled up behind Frederick's jeep and Tammy Nelson got slowly out and walked up to us, she came to a stop and pulled herself stiffly to attention and saluted us, "Welcome home, sirs!"

Buffy returned her salute, "Thank you, it seems congratulations are in order."

"Sir?"

"Congratulations, Major." I noticed for the first time she had gold oak leaves on her collar points instead of the silver bars of a captain, "I'd venture to guess you're the 101st's CO now?"

Startled and I thought a little chagrinned Tammie nodded, "Yes sir."

"Good," Buffy thought for a moment, "clear out revetments 1 and 3 and get some jeeps over here with tow bars, I want these planes under cover as quick as possible. Get the camouflage netting from stores and get it on them as soon as they are in the revetments. I want at least three good ground crew with a sergeant in charge with the planes at all times, also a guard force around the revetments with at least…" Buffy's voice trailed off and I though she started to blush a little.

After a moment she started up again, "Sorry, Major. Clear the revetments and get the camouflage netting out. I would like it if you would assign at least three good ground crewmen to each plane and also a guard force for the revetments. I'd also like you to launch a CAP, I don't know if the Germans are going to do anything but I know they're going to be really pissed so who knows."

It was another example of why Buffy was such an outstanding leader, she knew her place. The Army may not have known what had happened to us, regardless it had moved on and she was no longer the CO of the 101st. Her rank gave her certain powers, but until it was clear what her position was she could not order the CO of a fighter group around willy-nilly; she didn't know what other responsibilities or conflicting orders or requirements there might be. She could order the revetments cleared and the supplies she required and they would be obeyed unless some overriding issue existed in which case Tammie would tell her. But as far as the utilization and assignment of the 101sts personnel she could only request and recommend, it was Tammie's responsibility to determine how and if she would comply.

Tammie nodded and thought for a moment, "I'll get on it, sir. I'll have Timmons and Markoff as your crew chiefs, they can pick who they want." She turned to Fredericks, "When these planes get in the revetments mount a guard, four men for each revetment with a sergeant in charge, nobody is to get close to the planes except for Sergeants Timmons and Markoff and their men without my or the Colonel's or the Major's permission."

"Yes sir!"

"I'm going to send WO Gunderson with the ground crew to handle moving the planes, he can approach them also."

"Yes sir."

Tammie turned back to us, "I'll get a flight up as soon as we can launch - you're far enough down the runway that they can get off easily."

Buffy nodded, "Good, thank you."

"They'll be light on gas, once the runways clear I'll put up two flights with full loads to replace them and keep another two flights on 5 minute standby on the ground."

"Thank you, Major."

She nodded and then after a moment's hesitation stepped up to Buffy and wrapped her arms around her and picked Buffy up and swung her around. She put the startled Slayer back on her feet but gripped her shoulders and looked into her eyes, "Damn it, Buffy! We thought you were dead."

I saw tears glisten in Buffy's eyes, "It's good to see you too, Tammie."

She let go of Buffy and turned to me and stepped toward me, her arms out. I nodded and she stepped up to me and we hugged, she whispered into my ear, "I'd do the same thing to you but you're too damn big!"

I let her go and smiled at her, "It's good to be back."

She nodded to both of us, "I'm going to get the ball rolling, we can meet in my office when the planes are secure, sir?"

Buffy nodded in agreement, "We'll see you there in a little while, Major."

Tammie walked back to her jeep and climbed into the passenger seat and then gave a quiet order to the driver, the jeep backed up and headed for the headquarters Quonset hut. We watched it as it came to a stop by a cluster of other vehicles; it sat there for a minute and then headed on toward headquarters. A minute later two jeeps pulled out of the cluster, each was loaded with four soldiers. As it got closer I recognized Timmons driving one of the jeeps with Warrant Officer Gunderson in the passenger seat. In the other jeep I could see Markoff driving along with rest of my old ground crew.

As the two jeeps neared us the mounting roar of Merlin engines drew my attention up the runway, a pair of P-51s rose off the runway and seconds later flashed over us, followed thirty seconds later by another pair. As each plane neared us and then passed over I saw them rock their wings in greeting. A minute later the two jeeps pulled up behind the one Lieutenant Fredericks had arrived in, Gunderson, Timmons, Markoff and the rest of the men got out of them and came toward us. They were staring at us in amazement until Timmons broke ranks and stepped up to Buffy and wrapped his arms around her and picked her up and started swinging her around.

"Damn it, Timmons! Put me the fuck down you big ape!" Buffy screeched as she pounded half-heartedly on his back, I knew she wasn't putting her strength into it because she wasn't breaking his ribs.

"Not until the Colonel apologizes!" He yelled in her ear.

"Apologize for what!"

"For losing my perfectly good airplane and bringing back this piece of crap!"

Buffy stopped pounding his back and put her arms on his shoulders and shoved away from him, her strength forcing him to loosen his grip until she could see his face, "I'm sorry about the plane, but she is not a piece of crap! Now put me down, Sergeant."

Timmons set her back on her feet and she glared up at him, he met her gaze, "God it's good to see you Colonel."

Buffy's expression softened and she nodded, "It's good to see you too," she looked around at the cluster of men standing near her, all of them looking at her with a combination of awe and amazement, except for Gunderson who was looking at her gravely. She saw his expression, "Gunderson, you are looking fit."

"Colonel, you're a bit out of uniform." He said as he looked at her in the Luftwaffe uniform, the black jacket adorned with the German eagle and the epaulettes on her shoulders.

"Yeah… well… the exigencies of the service," she said as she walked over to him. She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled herself tight against the large, burly man. "With all the damn hugging going on I guess I get to do one of my own."

His massive arms went around her shoulders and held her tight against himself, after a minute he quietly asked, "What the hell have you been up to, Colonel?"

She loosened her grip and moved back a little so she could tilt her head back to look up at him, he rested his hands gently on her shoulders, "Oh, a little of this, a little of that."

He snorted in response and she grinned at him before stepping away from him, she looked at the other men that were clustered around, "It's good to see all of you." She turned back to the First Sergeant, "We need to get these planes under cover - do you think the tow bar will fit on them?"

"Let's check it out."

Gunderson waved Timmons back into one of the jeeps; he swung it out and then started backing it slowly toward the nose of Buffy's plane. When he got close he stopped it and two of the ground crewmen released the bar from its vertical position and then held it horizontal while the jeep backed a little closer. Gunderson, Buffy and I had all walked over to her plane, Gunderson and Buffy crouched down while I looked over their shoulders as the crewmen extended the tow bar toward the front landing gear. The gear did not have a tow ring like our old P-38s had nor would the fitting on the end of the bar fit around the wheel, it wasn't large enough. We towed P-51s by attaching it to the tail wheel and towed them backwards, but it was a much smaller wheel and the fork was not wide enough or deep enough to go around the Me-262's nose wheel. From the looks of the fittings on the nose gear the Germans towed them with something that attached to the protruding ends of the wheel axel. It took the men a couple of minutes to jerry rig an attachment, putting the fork around the strut just below the forward wheel cover and using rope to hold it up and attached to the wheel strut and some rags to cushion it.

While they were working on getting the tow bar attached Markoff walked up beside me, "Welcome back Major, it's good to see you."

I looked at him, "It's good to be back."

"You both look in pretty good shape, sir."

I nodded, "We lucked out, had a pretty easy time of it all things considered."

He nodded; then conspicuously looked at the two German planes we were standing between and then back at me, "And the German's thought you were such cute little girls they just gave you the keys to their hottest toy?"

I smiled up at him, "Well… You know how it is with Buff… the Colonel, she's such a sweet little thing no one wants to hurt her feelings, she just bats her long lashes and they sort of fall over themselves trying to help."

"She's such a sweet little thing she's going to have everyone talking about her in the third person doing guard duty for the next week!" Buffy growled.

There were smothered laughs and smiles from the men standing around, the awkwardness finally seemed to ease some and we were back to the easy camaraderie we'd had before being shot down.

They got the tow bar rigged to their satisfaction and Buffy climbed back up into her plane and released the brakes, she sat in the cockpit as they slowly swung her around and started up the runway, Timmons was walking beside the nose gear making sure nothing shifted while one of the other ground crewmen drove the jeep. I got back in my plane while Gunderson and Markoff rigged the tow; they gave me a wave and I released the brakes. There was a slight jerk as they started us rolling and then it went easy as they swung me around and we started up the runway.

By the time we got to revetment 3 Buffy's plane was already in revetment 1 and the guys were working on getting the camouflage nets spread over the aircraft. Revetments 1 and 3 were the first two revetments north of the headquarters complex, the closest ones to the main buildings and shops. As we turned off the runway and started into revetment 3 the roar of Merlins filled the air; four pairs of P-51s roared down the runway at short intervals and pulled into the clear morning sky. The men were working on getting the camouflage netting over her when Buffy walked into the revetment, the field grey German pack she'd used as a seat cushion slung over her shoulder. "About ready, Barb?"

I nodded, then turned to Markoff, "Be careful around her, the cannons are safed and powered down but they are loaded, I don't know how finicky they are."

Markoff nodded in understanding as he looked up at the nose of the Me-262 and the protruding muzzles of the four large cannons, "I'll keep the men clear, we aren't going to mess with her at all."

Buffy and I walked over to the headquarters hut escorted by Gunderson, neither of us wanted to be out on the base alone in the German uniforms we were wearing. Buffy gave a sharp rap on the door frame of her old office, now Tammie's office, and we went in on Tammie's call, "Come!"

As we came in she rose from behind the desk and came to attention, Buffy nodded and called out, "At ease!"

I sensed movement behind me and saw Warrant Officer Halloran, the group admin officer slip in behind us. Buffy glanced behind her, sensing the same movement, when she recognized Halloran she gave him a sharp nod of acknowledgement before turning back to Tammie, "Seems awfully quiet around here for such a beautiful day for flying?"

'Sir, were in a seven day stand down for training and maintenance. We lost a lot of good people last week and we need to integrate the replacements."

Buffy looked grim, "How many?"

Tammie looked at her and shook her head, "Sir, not that many the way you're thinking. Helen Carson got her oak leaf and she took Edgerton and a half dozen of the more experienced flight leaders along with another half dozen of the element leaders to form the core of a new fighter group, the 143rd. They'll be flying out of a new field a couple of miles from Horncastle."

"Where are they getting enough female pilots for another group and replenish our… your loses?"

Tammie shook her head, "They're coming through the pipeline but it will be the first of the year before we start getting more than those coming through the 796th, but they've promised to double their through put for the next three months."

"How many loses have we had?"

Tammie looked a little embarrassed, "Nineteen since we lost you, plus three severely wounded that won't be back for a long time, if ever, and a half dozen minor wounds. Battle damage has also been pretty bad. It's those damn jets of yours."

I whistled softly, that was about 50% higher than we'd be experiencing in the months before Buffy and I'd been shot down. And that didn't include us so it was even worse. How were they replacing those loses and spinning off a new group, "Where are they getting the pilots?" I asked.

Tammie looked at me, then she leaned back, "we're no longer the '101st Fighter Group, Female, Experimental and Provisional', we're the 101st Fighter Group, as is the 143rd."

Buffy looked truly startled, "What?"

"About a third of the replacement pilots are male now. Oh, and one of your old friends, Ben Franklin, is Helen's XO at the 143rd."

"Ben's her XO?" I asked.

"Yeah, he wanted to come here but General Miller nixed it."

"General Miller?" Buffy asked.

"Oh, sorry, forgot about that. The Colonel got his star and he's in command of the new wing. They've shuffled the groups and it will be the 89th, us, and the 143rd."

Buffy thought for a couple of minutes, then she nodded and looked at Tammie, "I'll repeat what I said an hour ago with even more emphasis, congratulations Major, you've been doing a hell of a job."

Tammie started to blush and then looked steadily at Buffy, "Thank you, sir."

"Sorry to hear about the high loses, but hopefully with the presents we brought home we'll find a way to deal with them a little better."

Tammie nodded, "Anything will help, we've figured out some things but we've got a ways to go."

Buffy was silent for a moment and then said, "Well, I guess it's time to face the music."

"Sir?" Tammie asked.

"Give your Wing Commander a call, it's time we report in and get it over with."

"I'm sure he's going to be happy to hear you're back."

"Oh, I am too. It's just that the brass and intelligence types are going to be grilling us non-stop for months," she glanced over at me, "maybe we should have stayed in the cave through the winter."

Tammie looked quizzically at her and then at me, I shook my head before responding, "It's a long story, Tammie, we'll tell you some other time."

Buffy looked at me, "You'll tell her, by the time we get done reciting it over and over it's going to be one of those stories I'll never want to tell again."

I snorted and turned back to Tammie, "Call the General."

Tammie picked up the telephone on her desk and spoke softly to the operator, after a couple of rings a voice answered, Tammie had the phone canted out so we could hear, "47th Fighter Wing, Headquarters, Sergeant Ackers speaking."

"Seargeant, this is Major Nelson, 101st Fighter Group."

"Yes ma'am."

"I need to speak to the General immediately."

"Uh… I'm sorry ma'am, the General is not available."

"Is he off base?"

"No ma'am… He's in a meeting and is not to be disturbed."

Tammie glanced up at Buffy who shook her head slightly, "Sergeant, I'm afraid you're going to have to disturb him."

The sergeant must have signaled someone because there was a click and another voice spoke, "Major, this is Lieutenant Bryant; I'm the General's aide, sir."

"Good morning Lieutenant, I believe we met a couple of weeks ago."

"Yes ma… sir, at the change of command ceremony. How can I help you?"

"I need to speak to the General, immediately."

"Sir, he's in a meeting with his new chief of staff and a couple others, he ordered us not to disturb him except for the most dire emergency… one that he would consider a dire emergency not just the person wanting to disturb him."

Tammie looked at Buffy and grinned slightly, "Well, while this may not be a dire emergency he will consider it one if he isn't informed immediately, go ahead and disturb him."

There was a ringing on the line and a gruff voice answered, I recognized our old COs voice, "Bryant what's the emergency?"

"Sir, Major Nelson is on the line, she says she has to speak to you immediately."

"Major, this had better be good or you are both in hot water."

"Yes sir, at 0915 this morning two of those new German fighters…"

"The Germans sent those new fighters over here?!"

"Uh… no sir."

"What the hell happened?"

Buffy had leaned over the desk and written something on a pad, she flipped it around and held it up in front of Tammie, "Sir, two German 'Me-262 jet fighters'..."

"What did you just call them?!"

"Me-262 jet fighters."

"Where did that come from?"

"The pilots…"

"WHAT?!"

"Sir, if I may!"

"Sorry Major, go ahead."

Tammie took a breath, "At 0915 this morning two German Me-262 jet fighters landed at our airfield, they were piloted by Lieutenant Colonel Buffy Summers and Major Barbara Thompson."

This time there was no response, the phone was silent; Buffy snorted, "Tammie, you do have a flair for the dramatic."

General Miller's voice came softly over the phone, "Is that Buffy?"

"Yes sir, she and Major Thompson are standing right here."

"Put her on."

Tammie handed the phone to Buffy, "Lieutenant Colonel Buffy Summers speaking sir."

There was silence for several seconds, "Risen from the dead again, Buffy?"

She was startled and blurted out her response, "No sir, I never died this time."

The silence was palpable and I saw Buffy start to blush, finally General Miller responded, "Ah… I see… what happened… short version."

"Yes sir," Buffy thought for a moment, "Major Thompson and I were both shot down at the same time by a couple of Me-262s, she had to parachute and I bellied in. We managed to meet up and get away from the crash sites, the crashes started a decent sized forest fire that covered our tracks. We were up high in the mountains, right at the tree line, and had made a couple of miles when the Major found a cave we could shelter in. We both had some minor injuries, the Major sprained her ankle pretty bad landing and was having difficulty walking and I had some minor shrapnel wounds. We decided to hold up for a couple of days and heal up. Then the weather turned nasty and we got hit by a series of storms, almost constant for the next couple of weeks."

"Yeah, the weather was bad here also, go on."

"By the time the storms cleared we decided it was too late in the season to try to make it out and were going to stay in the cave over the winter. Then the Germans moved in a squadron of Me-262s onto the airfield in the valley that we were overlooking, I'd have to check a map to get our exact location but we were about fifty or sixty miles south or southwest of Munich."

"We observed the Germans for a couple of weeks and noticed that they launched two aircraft every morning right around dawn. Last night we snuck down to the airfield and took out the pilots and took their place. Then we flew home."

"Shades of Halifax, Colonel?"

"Uh, yes sir."

The phone was silent for several minutes, "What condition are you and Major Thompson in?"

"We're fine sir, the injuries healed up a long time ago."

"Major Nelson?"

Tammie spoke loudly so he could hear her, "They both look like they're in good shape, no signs of malnutrition or anything - I'll have Doc check them."

Buffy looked indignant, "Sir, we had plenty to eat, we got a couple deer early on and the cave gave us plenty of shelter; we could have wintered over easily."

There was silence for a couple of moments, "There was an alert sent out by the British this morning, they said it looked like every fighter the German's had in Northern France and the low countries was taking off but nothing ever came of it. Did you two have something to do with it?"

Buffy sniggered, "I don't think they wanted us to keep our new toys sir."

"You were able to avoid them?"

"We got through them… the Me-262 is a hell of a fighter."

"These Me-262s you flew, what condition are they in?"

"They're in perfect condition; we didn't sustain any battle damage. I think we both ran out of fuel just as we landed," I nodded my head in agreement, "so they're dry but other than that they're ready to go. The only question is how much time they have left on the engines, they don't last very long."

"Nobody is to fly them at all, we can't risk losing them."

"Yes sir," both Buffy and Tammie chorused.

He was silent for a moment, "Okay Summers, how long until you can get to 8th Air Force headquarters?"

"It's about a four hour drive but we have been camping out for the last six weeks, we'd like a chance to get cleaned up and into some decent uniforms. I don't want to walk into the 8th dressed like I am."

Tammie sniggered, "She's only a Lieutenant in the Luftwaffe, sir, Major Thompson at least made it to Captain."

Buffy glared at her, "Well they wouldn't have let us go if we'd been in our US Army uniforms!"

There was a loud snort from the phone, "Summers, and you too Thompson, you never cease to amaze me."

"Yes sir."

"Congratulations and good work… I'll contact 8th Air Force and VIIIth Fighter Command; I know there will be a lot of people wanting to talk to you. You get cleaned up and headed down there, I'll tell them to expect you by late this afternoon."

"Yes sir… Are you going to…" Buffy seemed embarrassed and her voice trailed off.

"Yes I'll be there; I wouldn't miss it for the world. Get a move on." There were a couple of clicks and the phone line went dead.

Buffy handed the phone back to Tammie, "Oh, fuck!" Buffy hissed.

"What?" Tammie asked.

"VIIIth Fighter would have been bad enough, but 8th Air Force means we'll have to deal with Spaatz!"

Tammie gave a short shake of her head, "Maybe not, there's been a lot of reorganization going on."

"I've noticed!"

"Spaatz has been bumped up to command the 'Strategic Air Forces', Doolittle is CO of 8th Air Force now."

"Jimmy Doolittle?" I asked.

Tammie nodded, "Yes, Doolittle of the Tokyo raid."

"Yeah, we saw him at that conference in August just before we got the P-51s, but we never spoke to him. How is he?"

Tammie shrugged, "He hasn't made any drastic changes but I haven't dealt with him at all."

Buffy looked over at me, "I've met him a couple of times, back in the early thirties. He and Dad were… I don't think quite friends but they knew each other. He and a couple other Army flyers stayed at the ranch for a couple of days one summer. And I met him a couple other times at air shows and races; he seemed like a pretty good guy."

Buffy shrugged, "Whoever, I'm sure we'll be talking to all of them."

There was a light rap on the door behind us and I saw Corporal Leigh, Buffy's former orderly whispering to Halloran, after a moment he looked up, "The Corporal has put the Colonel's and the Major's gear in an empty quarters in the headquarters Quonset."

I was shocked, "You didn't ship our stuff back home?"

Halloran looked a little embarrassed, "Uh… No sir, we hadn't gotten around to it yet."

Buffy grinned, "Halleluiah! We won't have to wear hand-me-downs! We'd better get a move on."

Tammie nodded in agreement, "I'll get the staff car prepped, you two head over to Doc's clinic and get checked out."

Buffy scowled at her and then nodded, "Yeah, I guess we better let him do the poking and prodding or it'll be some ham handed chancre mechanic at headquarters."

"Corporal, stay with the Colonel and Major Thompson, get them anything they need."

"Yes sir."

Tammie looked at both of us for a moment, "God it's good to see you both alive!"

Buffy and I exchanged a quick glance, "It's good to be alive, and it's good to see all of you."

We took our leave and headed out; as we stepped out onto the steps of the headquarters building we were met by a pretty large crowd, a lot of pilots and ground crew by the uniforms, most of whom I recognized. I noticed half a dozen male pilots in a cluster off to one side, a couple female pilots mixed in with them. As we stepped through the door the crowd was silent for a moment as its attention focused on us and then they started clapping and cheering. We stopped and waited for a minute but it didn't seem to be ending, it seemed to be growing and more people were coming out of other buildings and joining the crowd. Buffy finally raised her hands over her head and made a quiet down gesture, slowly the sound tapered off and then there was a silent crowd looking on expectantly.

Buffy glanced over at me, I whispered to her, "Privilege of rank."

She scowled briefly at me and turned back to the crowd, "Thank you, it's good to be back!"

The crowd roared and she had to wait for them to quiet again, "I don't know what is going to happen to us now but I doubt that we'll be back, at least for a while."

There were some boos and catcalls but they quieted when Buffy raised her hands, "I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you, you have been a great team and we've accomplished a hell of a lot!"

More cheers and yells interrupted her, she waited until they quieted, "I know I speak for Major Thompson as well as myself when I say we couldn't have done it without you. And I know you'll support Major Nelson just as you supported me. The 101st is the best Fighter Group in the world and I'm sure you're going to keep it that way!"

The crowd roared and I felt a presence behind me and glanced back to see Tammie standing in the shadow of the door, she saw me looking at her and silently mouthed 'Thank her' and tilted her head toward Buffy. I nodded in understanding as Buffy continued; "Now we have to get out of these uniforms before someone shoots us…"

Somebody with a really big voice shouted back, "Go for it, Colonel!" A cackle of laughter went through the crowd and Buffy reddened.

"I did that once, that will have to be enough for you guys!" There was clapping and wolf whistles but they quieted quickly, "Again, thank-you for all your hard work and support. I'm sure we'll see each other around in the future."

The crowd roared again as Buffy started down the steps and I followed along behind. We made our way through the crowd, they opened a path for us but stayed close, I thought they wanted to reach out and touch her. Buffy acknowledged many of those that she knew the best or had worked with as we made our way through the crowd and over to the base clinic. Doc was waiting for us as we came in, "Morning Colonel, Major Thompson… it's good to see you."

"Good to see you, Doc." Buffy responded, "Would you just sign off whatever needs to be signed off and let us go?"

I shook my head and he grinned at her, "It's not going to be quite that easy, sir."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him and we followed him down the hall to an examining room. Doc probed and prodded us, listened to our hearts and generally checked us over. I explained to him how we had kept ourselves fed and warm. He checked Buffy's wounds and pronounced them well healed and checked my ankle. Finally he pronounced us in fine form and let us go. Corporal Leigh had disappeared but was back before the Doc was finished with us, he'd gotten some flight coveralls we could slip into so we didn't have to put the German uniforms back on.

As I looked at the pile of clothes we'd been wearing I made up my mind, I took the leather jacket and the Knight's Cross I'd worn. Buffy looked at me questioningly, "I'm going to try to get them sent back."

Buffy nodded in understanding and picked up the black leather jacket she'd worn and handed it to me, "Good idea." The rest of the uniform was just dark blue pants and light blue shirt, nothing of any significance I thought.

I turned to Doc, "You can dispose of the rest of the stuff - the long underwear should probably go straight into the burn barrel.

"We'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Doc."

We followed the Corporal over to one of the barracks Quonset huts that was part of the headquarters group; Buffy's quarters had been there along with mine after I'd given up the squadron. He led us to one of the two man rooms, the bunks were stripped but the mattresses had been unrolled and two duffel bags sat on each bed. I could see my name stenciled on two of the bags, the Corporal looked at us, "Sirs, when I packed up your rooms I put all the clothes in one duffel and the rest of your stuff in the other."

"Thanks, Leigh" Buffy responded.

I went over to my duffel, it was obvious which one held the clothes and I opened it up. Inside were neatly folded clothes, I got out a dress tunic, shirt, tie, slacks and underwear. I started to open the other duffel to get out all the other stuff that went on the uniform when Corporal Leigh spoke up, "Sirs, if you want I'll get your uniforms set up while you're getting cleaned up?"

Buffy smiled at him, "Sounds like a good idea."

I pointed to the two black leather jackets I'd put on the bunk beside me, "Would you find a box big enough for those?"

"Yes sir," he answered, then turned to the door and yelled, "Jones!"

A minute later a young private stepped in, "Corporal?" then he saw us and popped to attention, "Sirs!"

"At ease!" I said.

"Jones, run those uniforms over to the base laundry and have them pressed, I want them back in fifteen minutes!"

"Yes Corporal," he slid into the room and picked up the slacks, shirts, and tunics Buffy and I had put on the bunks, "By your leave, sirs."

"Go for it Jones," Buffy said and he scurried out of the room.

I opened the second duffel and found my bathing kit and was about to get out a towel when Leigh spoke up again, "Major, I got towels for you so you don't have to get your stuff wet."

I looked up at him and saw him pointing over to a pile of towels on the chair by the door, "Thanks, Corporal."

Buffy had her bathing kit in her hand, "Ready Barb?"

I nodded and we headed out of the room, grabbing a couple towels each as we left, and turned down the hallway toward the head at the rear of the hut. We came through the door into the large room with shower stalls across the back wall and trough sinks in the middle of the room. Commodes were down one of the side walls while urinals were down the other. There were a couple of benches between the sinks and the shower stalls.

The room was empty except for one man standing by the sink in his boxer shorts, his face half covered with foam and a razor in his hand. He stared at us in wide eyed surprise, "Morning Captain Sawyer, sleep in a little?" Buffy asked.

Sawyer was the group supply officer, or had been and I assumed he still was, he stared at us for another moment before responding, "Colonel Summers?! Major Thompson?!"

Buffy grinned at him, "Yes, I came back from the dead just to make your life miserable."

After a moment her responded, "Sir, you never made my life miserable!"

"Bullshit!"

Reluctantly he nodded in agreement, "Welcome back sir!"

"Thank you… late night?"

"We got a big shipment in, I had the guys going through it and getting it stowed. Along with all the other stuff it had a lot of parts the mechanics were waiting for and I wanted them distributed so they'd have them when they got to work this morning. We didn't finish until 3AM, I told the men to take the morning off except for Sergeant Adler and one other to man the supply shack. I'm going to relieve them as soon as I finish getting cleaned up."

Buffy had sat down on one of the benches and removed her boots, now she stood and unzipped the coveralls and let them drop, "I never doubted you had a good reason, Captain."

She stepped out of the coveralls and removed her underwear, and then grabbed her soap and shampoo and headed for the showers. I stripped and followed her. We luxuriated under the hot water for a long time, ignoring the signs to conserve hot water and keep showers under five minutes. I finally got out after about half an hour, I'd washed my hair twice and scrubbed myself until I felt squeaky clean. Captain Sawyer had left a couple minutes after we'd gotten into the showers and we'd had the head to ourselves until an orderly came in and started cleaning the commodes about five minutes before.

I dried off and then started trying to deal with my hair. It took me at least five minutes to get the tangles and knots brushed out. Buffy had finally gotten out of the shower and was struggling even more with her hair. She finally got all the snarls and tangles out of it and she brushed it out until it lay smooth and silky around her head. She took a tie and pulled it back into a low pony tail, "You aren't going to put it up?"

"Fuck it, it's going to be a long day and I don't want to have to deal with it constantly. It'll just start to come down and I'll have to fix it."

Normally she wore it up in a bun, the Army had this thing about hair coming over the collar, but her hair was so fine and silky wisps were constantly coming free. I kept my hair pretty short so I didn't have to deal with it, but it had been a long time since I'd had it cut, it had been about due when we were shot down so now it was really long. I didn't try to do anything with it but brush the curls back and tuck them behind my ears, but I knew it was going to be over my collar. "Well, we really haven't had a barber available, have we?"

She grinned at me, "Nope… sort of in a no barber zone."

We spent a final couple of minutes brushing our teeth repeatedly before we wrapped our towels around ourselves and slipped our feet into our boots, grabbed the rest of our stuff and headed back to the barracks room. When we came into the room I saw our uniforms laid out on the bunks, crisply pressed and with all the accoutrements - wings, ribbons, and rank insignia, properly attached to them. The duffels had been repacked, one closed up and laying on its side and the other open and standing on end.

"Sirs, we've repacked your duffels, the open one has most of your clothes and other stuff you'll probably need on a day to day basis and I've left room for your kits. The other has the rest of your stuff from your rooms and offices."

Corporal Leigh and the private, Jones he'd called him but I'd never seen him before, were standing between the bunks. He must be a new man, which was confirmed when Buffy dropped her towel and reached for the pair of panties next to her uniform, his eyes went wide in shock and I thought he might feint. I thought I might distract him, "Private Jones?"

He jerked his eyes off of her and squeaked, "Yes ma'am"

"New to the 101st?"

He gulped, his eyes kept going back to Buffy as she got dressed, "Yes ma'am… second day."

"Private, most of us prefer 'sir', it's probably better to use that."

"Yes ma… sir."

I couldn't put it off any longer and if I started acting embarrassed it would just make matters worse, so I dropped my towel and started getting dressed. "Don't worry private, you'll get used to it quick enough, won't he Leigh?"

"Yes sir, the newbies were being run around all day yesterday, by the time we were done getting them checked in and all the other processing done it was after taps and they crashed. I had Jones up before reveille this morning. He hasn't experienced barracks life yet."

The private tore his eyes from me and looked at Leigh, "What?"

"Half the troops in your squad room are female, get used to it."

Buffy was standing by the mirror hanging on the wall by the door, tying her tie, "What happened to the orientation lecture?"

"They're getting it this afternoon, sir."

"Private?"

"Yes m… sir."

"Just to tide you over, you can look but don't leer, and never ever touch! Understood?"

His face turned red but he managed to answer her, "Yes sir."

I sat on the bunk to put on my shoes when I noticed a cardboard box on the end of the bunk. I opened it and saw the black leather jackets neatly folded and the Knight's Cross sitting on top. "Leigh, is there any writing paper around?"

"We've got some in our supply closet."

"Would you get me some? And a pen? And a marker if you've got one?"

"Yes sir."

He was back a minute later with some stationary, a fountain pen and a black marker. I took the pen and stationary over to the small desk and sat down and thought for a moment, then wrote:

_Colonel;_

_Would you return these to whoever should have them? Sorry, I'm sure you understand the necessities of war._

_Major B. Thompson, USAAF_

I got up and put the note in the box under the Knight's Cross and then closed the flaps and wrote on the front of the box:

_**Colonel Adolf Galland**_

_**Geschwaderkommodore**_

_**Jagdgeschwader 26**_

I didn't try to seal the box; I knew it would be opened many times before it got to him, if it ever did. Buffy was standing behind me looking over my shoulder, I looked up at her and after a moment she shrugged her shoulders, "I guess we should try to be as civilized as possible despite what we're doing to each other."

I nodded in agreement, "I thought so."

We finished dressing, Leigh stowed our kits in our duffels and closed them up. I picked up the box and Buffy grabbed the German back pack she'd used as a seat cushion, almost empty now, the uniforms that had been in it were in a pile on the floor, not worth saving. We headed out, Leigh and Jones following behind carrying our duffels. Outside a staff car waited, one of the Plymouth P11s we'd acquired that summer. The driver ran around and opened the trunk and Leigh and Jones put the duffels in them while he came and opened the rear door. I'd seen him around before but didn't know his name and had to read it off of the name tag pinned to his shirt, I handed him the box, "You can put this in the trunk along with the rest of our stuff, Sergeant Gravatt."

"Yes sir, I got some lunches for you, sandwiches and chips and a couple of thermoses of coffee."

"Thank you Sergeant, they will be much appreciated."

"Yeah, that's probably better than what I was thinking of." Buffy said.

"What was that, Colonel?"

"Tough sergeant roasted on a spit over an open fire."

I looked back at the Sergeant who was staring open mouthed at Buffy, "She's just kidding, Sergeant."

"Maybe…" Buffy said.

I climbed into the back of the staff car and scooted across the seat. As Buffy climbed in after me I heard Leigh, "Don't worry, Tom, her bark is worse than her bite."

Buffy looked back at them, "How the hell would you know Leigh? I've never bitten you!"

Corporal Leigh looked in at her, "No sir. I'm going to miss you sir, I'm glad you're okay."

Buffy grinned up at him, "I'll be baaack."

The Sergeant closed the door and ran around and got in the driver's seat. Before he started the car he handed a bag and a couple of thermoses back to us.

As we headed out the gate I asked him, "Do you know where the Swiss Embassy is?"

Startled he looked at me through the rearview mirror, "Sir?"

"I need to drop something off there."

"I know where the US embassy is, but I don't know if the Swiss embassy is close to it sir."

Buffy spoke up, "It's a half mile or so." I looked at her questioningly, "It's just down the street from the Swedish embassy; I saw it when I went to that reception there after Ruth was shot down and picked up by that Swedish freighter."

I nodded in understanding, Ruth had been interned by the Swedes, we hadn't been able to get them to release her but she was a lot better off than as a POW. She was living in a hotel in Stockholm and could pretty much do as she wished, but if she violated her parole or tried to get into the US Embassy the Swedes would raise hell and probably throw her in prison. So she was sitting out the rest of the war in comfort, sometimes I envied her.

I turned back to the driver, "Are we going to be close?"

The driver thought for a minute, "We'd have to go into central London, probably add an hour to the trip."

I looked at my watch; it was only eleven o'clock and the General had asked us to be there by late afternoon, we had time, "Okay - stop there on the way."

I saw him look questioningly at Buffy through the rear view mirror, she noticed him and nodded in agreement, "Do it, Sergeant."

"Yes sir."

We sat back and ate our lunch; then curled up in the corners of the back seat, I went to sleep almost immediately. I hadn't slept in over thirty hours; the time Buffy and I had spent in bed the night before hadn't included any sleep. I woke with a start; the Sergeant was stretched over the front seat, his hand shaking my knee, "Major! Where here!"

I looked around groggily, Buffy may have started in the other corner of the seat but now she was lying on the seat, her head in my lap and her face buried in my stomach, her arms wrapped around my waist. I shook her shoulder, "Buffy! Wake up!"

She came awake, I felt her stretch against me and her grip tighten, and then with a start she twisted around and sat up. She looked around and stretched and yawned, then shook herself. She squirmed around until she could see herself in the rear view mirror, "Christ! I'm a mess!" She looked out of the car and saw the crowded London street, "Swiss Embassy?"

"Yes sir," Gravatt said.

She turned and looked at me, "Well, you travel well."

I brushed down my uniform and checked myself in the mirror, other than being a little bleary eyed I was presentable. I grabbed my cap off the shelf behind the seat as the driver got out of the car and opened the door for me. It was weird; the Plymouth was an American car, left hand drive, which meant in England it put the driver's side against the curb. I stepped out of the car and looked around. Across the street I could see a stately building with an ornate entrance, above it flew Switzerland's red flag with a white cross, "Sergeant, open up the trunk."

I followed him back to the trunk and got out the cardboard box. I glanced up and down the street, there wasn't any traffic, and walked swiftly across. Beside the stairs leading up to the main door of the building was a small guard shack; a Swiss soldier was in it and looking at me curiously. I walked up to him, "I'd like to see your military attaché?"

"You can go right in, ma'am," he responded in slightly accented English.

"No, I don't think I should, could you ask him to come out."

He picked up a phone and after a moment spoke a few words, waited for a few moments and started speaking again, it was in German with a strange accent but I could follow most of it. He described me as a 'beautiful American Major with wings and ribbons', after a couple of 'Jawohls' he hung, "He'll be right down, ma'am."

"Danke für Ihre Hilfe," (_Thank you for your help_) I responded.

He gave me a startled look and his face reddened, "Ah… you speak German."

I nodded, "A little, thank you for the compliment."

"Yes ma'am," he was looking at the ribbons and wings on my chest and then at my name tag, "Are you… are you the famous Major Thompson, the flier?"

Now I could feel myself redden a little, "Uh… well, I suppose so."

His eyes went wide and then grew hard, "But you were shot down and killed over a month ago."

I thought for a moment, maybe this wasn't such a good idea, but then it wasn't like it was some big secret. The Germans certainly knew what we had done, Galland had even known who we were before we'd even gotten out of France. I shrugged my shoulders in resignation, "Shot down maybe, but certainly not killed."

The front door of the embassy opened and a uniformed officer, a Colonel if I had my ranks correct, came down the stairs toward us. I came to attention and raised my hand in salute; he returned my salute as he came up to me. Before either of us could say anything the guard spoke, "Dies ist der beruhmte Major Thompson, der Jagdflieger." (_This is the famous Major Thompson, the fighter ace_.)

The colonel looked at me for a moment, then clicked his heels and gave me a short quick bow, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Major Thompson. I am Colonel Hans Vonlanthen. How may I assist you?"

"Sir, I was hoping that you might be able to arrange getting this to Germany." I put the box I'd been holding under my left arm on the shelf at the front of the guard shack.

He looked at the box and his eyes widened as he read what I had written on the top, "I did not think you were supposed to be trafficking with the enemy, Major." I saw him glance around; his eyes settled for a moment on the staff car across the street then came back to me.

"There is no contraband; in fact what is in there actually belongs to them."

He gestured toward the box, "May I?"

I nodded, "Of course, sir."

He opened the box and looked at the Knight's Cross sitting on top of the folded black leather jacket, the Luftwaffe eagle and swastika clearly visible. He reached in and touched the folded paper under the Knight's Cross but then glanced at me, I nodded and he took it out, read it, then carefully put it back under the Knight's Cross. He lifted the jacket slightly and saw the second jacket underneath it.

He closed the flaps and looked at me for a moment, "This involves how you returned to England I presume?"

"Yes sir."

"It must be quite a story." I didn't say anything and after a few moments he nodded slightly, "If I may, one question?"

"You may ask it, I don't know if I'll be able to answer it."

"Is the small blonde sitting in your staff car Colonel Summers?"

I looked across the street and saw Buffy looking out at us; again I couldn't think of any real reason to try to keep it a secret, "Yes sir."

He nodded, "I'm sure we'll be reading all about it in the newspapers shortly."

I shrugged, "Some of it at least."

He nodded in agreement; then gestured to the box, "I'll arrange to get this to the Germans, it may take a couple of weeks and I do not know if they will deliver it to the addressee."

"That is as much as I can ask, thank you."

He looked at me speculatively for a moment, "I do not believe you are doing this for yourself but for whomever they belong… belonged to."

I didn't respond to his implied question, "Thank you sir, by your leave?"

He nodded, "Good luck, Major."

I walked back across the street, by the time I got to the car Gravatt had the door opened. I climbed in and sat back in the seat, Buffy turned to me, "He took it I take it."

I nodded as the car pulled away from the curb, "He'll get it to the Germans - whether they'll deliver it is anyone's guess."


	10. Chapter 10: The Debriefing

An hour later we were pulling up to the 8th Air Force headquarters at High Wycombe. As we got out of the car a Lieutenant came down the stairs with a couple of privates trailing along behind, "Lieutenant Colonel Summers? Major Thompson?"

Buffy nodded, "Yes, Lieutenant."

"It will be a while until they're ready for you, General Doolittle is out right now and won't be back until later but he wants to see you tonight. I'm to get you settled into guest quarters."

Gravatt had opened the trunk of the car and the two privates had gotten out our duffels, Buffy was still keeping hold of the German back pack. "Lead on, MacDuff"

"Sir?"

"Jesus! And I thought I didn't pay attention in class." Buffy snapped.

The Lieutenant looked at her in confusion and then turned to me, "She gets Shakespearian around these old English manor houses, or at least she tries to."

"Tries?"

"Buffy, it's 'Lay on, MacDuff'"

"'Lay', 'Lead', it's close enough." She looked at the Lieutenant, "Lead the way."

The lieutenant led us into the building and down hallways and up some stairs, followed by more halls and another set of stairs; I hoped we weren't going to be expected to find our way around this building without a guide. As we passed people and small groups I could feel their eyes on us and whispers trailing behind us. Eventually we came to a door and he lead us through, we were in a large room with a sitting area set up near a large fireplace on one side and a huge bed on the other side.

The two privates put our duffels on a wide low bench at the foot of the bed; the Lieutenant said to them, "You can report back to the duty sergeant."

"Yes sir," one said and they both walked out of the room, closing the door as they left.

The Lieutenant went over to a door near the bed, he rapped on it and after a moment opened it, I could see it opened into a large bathroom, "You're sharing this with the room next door so you'll want to knock and maybe keep the door locked."

"Why, is our neighbor a rapist?" Buffy snapped.

He looked at her, blushing red, "Uh… No, I'm sure the Colonel next door isn't…"

Buffy shook her head, "How long until we'll be able to meet the General? Generals?"

He shook his head, "I don't know sir - they haven't set a time. Later this evening, General Doolittle isn't back yet and isn't expected for several hours."

"So we don't have anything to do for a while?"

"No sir."

"Can we get some food?"

He glanced at his watch, "The officer's mess doesn't open for another hour, almost an hour and a half sir."

"Well, if I can't eat then I think I'll get some sleep."

Buffy took off her uniform coat and hung it over a chair, and then kicked off her shoes while she pulled her tie off and tossed it on the arm of the chair. "Sir, I'm supposed to stay with you; they'll call when they want you and I'll be able to escort you…"

His voice trailed off as Buffy unbuttoned her slacks and let them drop, she stepped out of them and then leaned over and picked them up and carefully hung them over the back of the chair. "That's fine; just don't make a lot of noise. It looks like there are a lot of books by the fireplace; you can read quietly can't you?"

"Sir!" He squeaked as she finished unbuttoning her shirt and let it slide off her shoulders.

"What?" she looked at him and saw him turning red, "Jesus! Haven't you ever seen a woman get undressed before?"

"Buffy!"

She looked over at me, "What? I'm not sleeping in my damned uniform. Besides making a mess of it it's uncomfortable."

I shook my head in resignation and turned to the Lieutenant, "Just ignore her, she has no sense of modesty."

Buffy didn't pay any attention, she popped her bra loose and let it fall down her arms and dropped it on the rest of her clothes. The Lieutenant stared at her open mouthed as she walked over to the bed, flipped down the covers and crawled in. She pulled the covers over herself and sighed contentedly, then raised her head and looked at us, "Just keep it quiet, please!"

He finally turned his head to me, after a minute of thought I said, "I think I'm going to join her, it's been a long day and a couple hours sleep in a car really wasn't enough. Can you get some food sent up when the mess opens?"

"Yes sir, I suppose so sir."

I nodded, "Good, get us up at least half an hour before they'll want us."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, "General Doolittle will want his evening briefing as soon as he gets back; that usually takes forty-five minutes or so. I imagine he'll want you shortly after that but I can't be sure, sir."

"Well, get us up when he gets back and we'll just go from there."

"Yes sir."

I went to the far side of the bed and got undressed, putting my clothes on a chair by the window. As much as possible I kept my back to the Lieutenant, but I had to turn toward him to walk to the bed unless I wanted to do some kind of embarrassed sideways walk. I wasn't doing that so I tried for Buffy's nonchalance and just turned and walked toward the bed, trying to ignore his eyes as the followed me. While I might have gotten somewhat used to the casual nudity around the quarters at Spilsby I'd been out of that environment for almost two months and some of it had worn off. Besides, that had always been as part of a group in the communal head, not in the privacy of a bedroom with a large bed, my lover, and one man. I tried not to think of that, or about Buffy, as I crawled into the bed and realized what she had been sighing about; it was like heaven. The thoughts didn't matter then; I wasn't awake for ten seconds after my head hit the pillow.

Vaguely I heard the jangle of a telephone and then felt a hand shaking me and calling my name, "Major Thompson."

I rolled over and looked up at the Lieutenant standing over me; the room was dark except for the light from a lamp near the fireplace, "Time?"

"About 9:30, the General would like to see both of you at 10 PM."

I nodded and threw the covers back; he jumped back and turned away. From the other side of the bed I heard Buffy's querulous voice, "Whas up?"

I swung my arm and thumped her shoulder through the covers with my fist; she raised her head and peered at me through her hair, "Buffy, it's time to get up."

"Christ! Why can't they give us at least one day to recover?"

"It's the Army."

She stuck out her tongue and gave me a raspberry; then she threw the covers off of herself and rolled out of the bed, "Dibs on first to the bathroom!"

She opened her duffle and got out her bathing kit and then walked quickly to the bathroom door. She gave it a sharp rap and then opened it and walked in, if anybody had been in it they wouldn't have had time to react. Fortunately it was empty; she shut the door behind her. A couple of minutes later she was back out, her hair brushed and back in a ponytail.

The Lieutenant was watching her as she walked across the room in her panties; she came to a stop and turned to face him, "Like the view?"

"Sir!" he squeaked and averted his eyes.

"Listen Lieutenant, you can look but don't leer, it's embarrassing." She turned away and went over to the chair and started dressing.

I got out of bed and went and got my kit out of the duffle, as I went past him to the bath room I said softly, "You weren't leering badly, just don't look quite so intently… don't make it like you're trying to see through her panties."

I could feel his eyes follow me as I walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I was back a couple of minutes later and started to get dressed. Buffy had her shirt and slacks on but that was all, she was seated near the fireplace with a plate on her lap and eating quietly. The Lieutenant was in a chair across from her, as I came back into the room he turned to me, "Major, there's some cold roasted chicken and rolls and some coffee that's pretty hot. There are also some mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans but they've gotten pretty cold. I thought you would prefer to sleep when the food came, you both seemed pretty out of it."

Buffy nodded, her mouth full of food, I answered for both of us, "Thanks, Lieutenant, you made a good choice. How much time have we got?"

He glanced at his watch, "About fifteen minutes, it will take us about five to get to the conference room."

I put on my bra and pulled on my shirt and pants and then went over and had a quick meal. Buffy and I ate our meals and finished dressing in the allotted time and then followed the Lieutenant through the maze of hallways and stairs until he lead us into a large room. It was a library, tall windows on the far wall were covered with blackout drapes; both side walls and the wall containing the door we had come through were lined with floor to ceiling book cases. The only break in the book cases was a large fire place in the middle of one of the side walls. A portrait of some English noble; at least by the robes and jewels I assumed he had been an English nobleman, hung over the fireplace.

A large table filled most of the room; there were ten chairs down either side of the table. It was still a couple of minutes before ten and the room was empty when we entered. Buffy walked to the windows on the far end and pulled the drapes aside to look out over the English countryside. "Sir, we're not supposed to break blackout."

Reluctantly she dropped the drapes and started browsing the book shelves, I heard her mutter under her breath, "Giles would be in heaven!"

I looked around the room for a minute and then pulled out a chair and sat down to think. I was trying to organize my thoughts, going over what had happened so I could help Buffy during the debriefing. I knew most of it would be on her, but I wanted to be able to help with any details or specifics if she needed them.

A couple of minutes after ten the door swung open and the Lieutenant called out, "Attention!"

I got to my feet and came to attention beside Buffy as a stream of officers came into the room lead by General Doolittle. There was a Brigadier General immediately after him, his chief of staff I assumed, followed by four Colonels and two Majors and then a Captain, bringing up the rear was another one star, General Miller, our old CO.

Doolittle walked down the far side of the table until he came to the center chair in front of the fireplace, the other officers spread out on either side of him except for the Captain; he pulled the end chair nearest the door on our side of the table to the end of the table. General Miller came down our side of the table and came to a stop near the center. When everybody came to a stop Buffy brought her hand up in a stiff salute, Doolittle looked at her for a few moments and then his eyes darted to me and then returned to her. Finally he returned the salute, when he dropped his hand Buffy dropped hers back to her side.

"At ease," Doolittle said after a moment.

General Miller walked over to us and held out his hand to Buffy, "Welcome home Summers."

Buffy took his hand and shook it, "Thank you sir."

When she released it he turned to me and held out his hand, I took it as he added, "And you also, Thompson."

"Thank you, sir." I responded.

I turned back to the line of officers across the table, after a moment General Doolittle spoke, "It seems congratulations are in order for your safe return Colonel Summers, Major Thompson."

"Thank you, sir" Buffy and I responded together.

"Lieutenant Colonel Summers, I remember you from that briefing back in August but I don't believe we've ever been introduced?"

"No sir."

He turned to me, "But we have, Major Thompson, several times if I recollect correctly."

"Yes sir, in the early 30s. You stayed at our house once and we also met several times at air shows or racing meets."

He nodded, "Yes, I remember you… curious about our planes if I remember correctly."

I knew I flushed a little, when he'd stayed at our house he had caught me in his Army fighter trying out the controls and pretending I was in a dog fight. I had just turned eleven and Dad wouldn't start to teach me to fly until I was thirteen and I was impatient, "Ah… Yes sir."

"And still at it, I see."

"Yes sir, always like to broaden my knowledge."

He looked at me for a couple of moments longer before turning to Buffy, he gestured to the chairs opposite him, "Ladies."

Buffy and I moved to the chairs but remained standing behind them, Buffy returned Doolittle's steady gaze for several seconds; then she gestured slightly to the chair in front of him and added "General".

In the world of social graces gentlemen always waited for the ladies to take their seats before sitting themselves. In the military world junior officers always waited for senior officers to take their seats before taking theirs. Buffy always considered military courtesy topped civilian courtesy when she was in uniform unless it was a social occasion in which case she might take a seat offered by a man. Then again if she felt it was condescending she might just ignore it.

After a couple of moments Doolittle gave a sharp nod and pulled out his seat and the other officers around the table followed along. General Miller took the seat next to Buffy and as soon as he was seated we drew out our chairs and sat down, Buffy was directly opposite Doolittle and I was opposite the Brigadier General at his side.

After everyone was seated Doolittle had the officers with him introduce themselves. While that was going on there was a wrap on the door and the Captain at the end of the table got up and opened the door, a couple of privates were outside with wheeled cart. The cart held a large coffee urn and a bunch of cups and saucers. The rolled it in and set it up near the door, then spent a couple of minutes distributing cups of coffee to everyone around the table. When they were done they left, closing the door behind themselves.

Doolittle looked at us for a couple of seconds before starting, "I don't usually concern myself with debriefing pilots that have been shot down and manage to get back, it is more properly the realm of the intelligence division. Colonel Gorham is here representing them," he nodded to the Colonel sitting to one side of himself, "but your situation has some… some unique attributes. Just to satisfy my own curiosity I thought we should do the initial debriefing together."

After a moment of silence Buffy responded, "Yes sir."

"So, let's conduct this as a normal post mission debriefing, start at the beginning and take us through it, Colonel. If I or any of the other officers have questions they'll ask them as they become relevant."

"Yes sir."

He turned and looked down both sides of the table, "Gentlemen, keep your questions germane and to a minimum, but ask them if you feel they are necessary."

There was a chorus of "Yes sirs."

He nodded, "Go ahead, Colonel Summers."

"Sir, I believe it would be more appropriate if Major Thompson led off, she was the squadron lead during the mission and I was just a flight lead."

One of the other Colonels spoke up, a man named Simmons, "I saw that in the mission report, why weren't you leading the squadron, Lieutenant Colonel? For that matter why weren't you leading the group? You were the group commander, weren't you?"

It bothered me a little the way he emphasized 'Lieutenant Colonel', in normal conversation 'Lieutenant Colonel' was a little awkward and Lieutenant Colonels were generally addressed as Colonel, just like Generals were addressed as 'General' rather than their full rank.

"I wasn't scheduled to fly that day, I was only along because one of the back-up pilots came down with some kind of respiratory infection and the Doc scratched her. I took one of the back-up spots and then filled in as Blue flight leader when an oxygen system failure forced her to abort. Captain, now Major, Nelson was leading the group."

"You seemed to have a lot of aborts that day."

Buffy bristled a little, "We had four aircraft abort, out of forty-eight, fifty-two if you count the four back-up planes. If you examine the statistics I think you'll find that is actually a low number. I believe our abort numbers are better than most."

There was silence in the room for several seconds, then General Miller spoke, "The 101st has the lowest per mission abort rates in the wing, and our wing has the lowest abort rate for fighter wings in theater."

General Doolittle held up his hand, "I asked that the questions be kept germane, let's keep on subject people. Colonel, why didn't you take command when you found out you were flying the mission?"

"Sir, there was no reason to scramble our formation, Captain Nelson was perfectly capable of leading the group; she'd done it many times in the past."

He nodded in understanding, "Okay - Major Thompson, you can start off."

"Yes sir," it took me a moment to get my thoughts organized. "The mission was a normal bomber escort mission for the group, the target of the day was the industrial complex on the southern edge of Munich. We had a normal take-off and rendezvous with the bomber stream and a quiet flight. As we neared Munich I became concerned because it was so quiet, we hadn't met any German fighters the entire flight and I hadn't heard of any other contacts. We were nearing the front of the bomber train in our escort orbit when I decided to keep our squadron with the bombers during the bomb run rather than staying clear and attempting to rejoin after they cleared the city."

"Captain Nelson, with the 795th was in front of us and continued her escort orbit while Captain Carson with the 793rd behind us decided to stay with the bombers. We climbed to twenty-five thousand feet; the bombers were at twenty thousand, both to slow our advance along the bomber train and to create separation so we wouldn't be at as much risk from flak."

One of the Majors raised his hand and I nodded to him, "Is five thousand feet going to make that much of a difference?"

I nodded, "It's a lot of distance for flak rounds when it's vertical distance and I doubted that the Germans were going to adjust their fire for us, their primary targets are the bombers."

I waited for a moment but he seemed satisfied; "We stayed with the bombers through the bomb run and as they turned out of the area. As we cleared the main flak area we, Colonel Summers made the initial sighting, she spotted what appeared to be two squadrons of heavy fighters, Me-410s it turned out, escorted by a squadron of Me-109s. By that time we were several miles in front of the bomber stream. I was able to lead the squadron in an attack curve that took us through the 109s and then we hit the 410s."

The Colonel that had questioned Buffy about leading the 101st interrupted, "Why didn't you attack the 410s immediately? They were more of a threat to the bombers."

I was shocked by the question, who was this idiot? "I wasn't going to try to attack the 410s with an undisturbed squadron of Me-109s sitting on top of them and ready to bounce us!"

The Brigadier next to Doolittle spoke up, "You'll have to excuse Colonel Simmons, he's brand new from the states and new to the army; he's been attached to the 8th as a logistical expert."

So what the hell was he doing here, I wondered? Colonel Miller filled in the answer obliquely, "Mr. Simmons was the chief aide to Senator Nickerson before deciding to lend his expertise to the Army."

I remembered that Nickerson was the Senator that had blocked Buffy's Medal of Honor. So Simmons had political connections and it seemed like he was of the same persuasion; he didn't like us and I suspected I knew why.

"Go on Major," General Doolittle directed.

"Yes sir. We made our attack, we got a good bounce on the Germans, I don't think the expected us to have come through with the bombers. We were also aided by the fact that a high cloud cover had developed, about 8/10ths, and we were flying right at the base of the clouds. I believe we downed 11 of the fighters although I don't know how many were confirmed."

"We continued our attack on the lead group or 410s, they knew we were coming and started to put up some defensive fire but they were pressing home their attack on the bombers. I don't know if they were aware that they had lost their fighter cover but it seems likely, our attack must have been clearly visible to their gunners. We hit them hard, 9 or 10 of them went down although again I can't tell you how many kills were confirmed. It was enough to break up their formation and I don't think any of them made any attacks on the bomber stream."

"I lead the squadron, or rather three flights; Yellow flight wasn't able to rejoin immediately, they had lost several thousand feet of altitude in pursuit of the flight of 410s they were attacking. When we turned in to attack the last squadron of 410s, it was a short squadron, there were only three flights of four aircraft, they scattered. One flight went for the bombers, I had Blue and Green flight attack them, one flight dove away and I had Yellow flight intercept them, the last flight turned toward us and I took my Red flight to engage them and keep them off of Blue and Green while they went after the ones attacking the bombers. We came in range of the flight that was trying to intercept us and shot down three of the four planes, I'd been unable to get Red 4 repositioned so she wasn't able to attack the fourth 410."

"The 410s blew up unexpectedly easily, they were carrying what I determined later were rocket pods under their wings and when our fire hit them the tracers detonated them. Before Blue and Green flight were able to reach the flight of 410s attacking the bombers they launched those rockets at the bombers, I don't know if the bombers took any hits but it cost the Germans, Blue flight got all four of them. Yellow flight also managed to get two of the four 410s that were in the flight that broke off."

Colonel Simmons raised his hand; I stopped and nodded to him, "Sir?"

"I've kept a tally of what you just said, according to my count you claim your squadron of 16 fighters shot down 11 out 16 Me-109s and then18 or 19 out 28 Me-410s in what could only have been a couple of minutes."

"Yes sir."

"No wonder the number of kills the 101st has claimed is so high - with such ridiculous tales you make up. Doesn't anyone bother to check these stories?" He said incredulously as he looked around the room.

I saw General Miller begin to redden, "Colonel, every one of those claims has been verified by gun camera footage. The only exception are the enemy aircraft shot down by Colonel Summers and Major Thompson, since they did not return their gun camera film was not available. However, we had the eye-witness accounts of their wingmen and second element pilots. In addition there was a reporter, a photo-reporter with a movie camera, flying in one of the lead group B-17s, he filmed the entire engagement. It's long range and you can't make out a whole lot but it's clear enough to count exploding aircraft and smoke trails. The credited kills from that engagement was eleven 109s and nineteen 410s, including two kills for Colonel Summers and three kills for Major Thompson."

You could hear the sneer in Simmons voice as he replied, "Those are certainly good numbers for your wing, General."

Doolittle glanced sharply down at him, "Colonel, watch your mouth!"

Colonel Gorham, the intelligence officer, spoke up, "I've conversed with Colonel Feldman; the head of the intelligence section at VIII Fighter Command, about the 101sts claim procedures, those procedures are very strict and very thorough. They have eased up a little since Colonel Summers was with the 89th Fighter Group but not a whole lot. Colonel Feldman told me that they have yet to discredit a claimed kill made by any pilot in the 101st, on the contrary they have on many occasions upgraded claims for probables to kills."

Doolittle nodded to him and then turned back to me, "Continue, Major."

"We were reforming and I was deciding what we would do next, we had dropped quite a bit behind and below the bomber stream and we were well south of their course while we had dealt with the enemy attack. In addition I knew we had expended a lot of our ammunition and fuel, I was considering whether it was worth it to return to the escort or to just head home and see what we could find on the way. I was hit, at the time I didn't have any idea by what, and my plane was on fire and out of control. I managed to regain partial control, enough that I was able to bail out."

"I was low when I bailed out and my chute had barely opened when I landed high up on a mountain, right at the tree line. I hit hard and sprained my ankle pretty severely. I had gotten myself organized and decided what I was going to try to do and had moved a couple hundred yards from where I landed when Buf… Colonel Summers found me. I think she can take it from here."

I glanced over at Buffy and she gave me a sour look, I just smiled back at her.

"Colonel?" General Doolittle asked.

Buffy turned her attention back to him, "Yes sir, I think the reason we got bounced was my fault."

General Miller looked at her skeptically, "Why do you say that, Colonel?"

"Major Thompson has glossed over the fact that I was arguing with her that we should forget rejoining the bombers and go on a rhubarb. I think the Germans used the radio intercepts to vector the jets to us, they came out of clouds right on top of us, I did not even have time to react, and they targeted Major Thompson and I."

Colonel Simmons couldn't seem to contain himself, "A little egocentric aren't you?"

Buffy shrugged, "There were two jets, one went for the squadron lead and one went for the Blue flight lead, Barbara and I. I think our voices are distinct enough that the Germans know who we are; Colonel Galland certainly did this morning. I also think the Germans know where our color flights are normally positioned when we're in various formations. I think we've gotten awfully slack in that respect, Red flight is the lead, Blue flight is second or starboard flight in diamond formation, Green flight is third or port in a diamond and Yellow is last or rear in a diamond. If we're in those positions then the Germans know who is who. I've never considered that that might be an issue, but if they're going to start targeting specific pilots then that should raise some concern."

The Colonel didn't seem convinced, "Do you really think the Germans are that concerned about one specific pilot?"

Before Buffy could respond Gorham spoke up, "We know the Germans have a bounty of 10,000 Reichsmarks for anyone who kills or captures Colonel Summers and 5,000 Reichsmarks on Major Thompson. We also believe that the first time Colonel Summers was shot down it was by what could only be described as a targeted interception of the 89th Fighter Group, and her squadron in particular, by the German fighter command."

Colonel Simmons didn't respond but his expression clearly indicated he didn't believe there was a connection. Gorham turned back to Buffy, "What did you mean when you referred Colonel Galland?"

"He tried to intercept us this morning and he knew who we were."

Gorham nodded his head, "I saw the report from the British about the German's funny scramble this morning, it makes sense that they would try to stop you considering you'd stolen a couple of their newest and best planes. But what makes you think Colonel Galland knew it was you."

"Because he talked to us this morning."

Colonel Simmons asked in a startled voice, "You talked?!"

"He contacted us by radio after we had broken through, congratulated us on getting away."

"How on earth could he contact you by radio?"

Buffy looked at him startled, "Uh… maybe because we were in German planes? They use the same radios in all their planes and we hadn't changed the frequency setting in case we needed to talk to each other."

Doolittle spoke up, "I'm sure the Germans collect as much information as they can on our pilots, especially our star pilots, as we do on theirs. In fact I suspect they have an easier job since we have a harder time controlling what our press publishes."

Gorham nodded in agreement, "I'm sure they know as much if not more about Colonel Summers and Major Thompson as we know about Galland."

I spoke up, thinking of the package I had just turned over to the Swiss, "How much do we know about Galland?"

"He's their leading ace on the western front and there were rumors that he was being considered for 'General der Jagdflieger', General of Fighters, until Molders and Goring worked out their differences. Technically he's CO of the 26th Fighter Wing but in practical terms he's in charge of all the fighters on the western front."

Doolittle caught my eye and then turned to Buffy, "Colonel, you were describing the jets intercepting you, go on."

Buffy nodded, "I only got a glimpse of them coming out of the cloud, they were a little above us and at our eight o'clock; they were firing almost as soon as they came out. I tried to bank away but took three or four hits before I could maneuver. The first round took off my wing tip. I was lucky, the second round went through my wing just aft of the guns but it must have been a dud, it didn't detonate, it just punched a hole. Then I took at least one round but I think it was two rounds just below and aft of my seat, it, or they, took out my radiator and must have dumped all my glycol. It knocked me into a spin and screwed up my elevator cables, it took a minute for me to figure out how to fly her with the damaged controls and by then my engine had seized."

Colonel Simmons was looking skeptical again, "You're saying it only took three or four rounds to knock you down?"

"The Me-262 is armed with four 30mm cannon, the 30mm cannon round is twice the size of our 20mm rounds and a half dozen 20mm will take out any fighter. Luckily the 30mm cannon the Germans are using fires a very low velocity round so it's not the best thing in the world for air-to-air combat."

"And you are an expert because?" Simmons sneered.

"Maybe because I've done more of it than most people?" Buffy reached down to the German backpack she'd been hauling around all day and picked it up and placed it on the table. Then she reached inside and pulled out the Me-262 Operations and Training manual and the pilot's transition notebook she'd stolen weeks ago and slid them across the table to Colonel Gorham, "Or maybe because we spent a lot of time reading about it?"

Gorham looked at the two books in front of him, then reached out and pulled the thicker manual toward himself and started leafing through the pages, "What the hell is this?"

I answered him, "I believe the title is "Messerschmitt 262A/B Operations and Maintenance Manual."

Buffy filled in more, "They're how we learned how to fly the Me-262; the other one is a pilot's transition workbook."

Doolittle took the transition workbook and flipped through the pages for a minute and then turned his attention back to Buffy, "Go on, Colonel, you said you think you took two hits in the fuselage?"

"Yes sir."

"Why two?"

"Because I got some shrapnel in my side, if it had been only one round I don't know how I could have been hit and at the same time have so much damage done down in the radiator area that the engine seized in less than a minute."

He nodded in understanding, "Go on, Colonel."

"Once I got some control of her and got her out of the spin I started looking for someplace to set her down, I knew I wasn't going to do anything else. I saw another P-51 on fire and a couple thousand feet below me and then I saw a parachute open and a couple of seconds later they landed just at the tree line on the mountain below me. I saw a clear area a couple hundred yards away and managed to belly her in there."

"She skidded downhill until we got to some trees and then she wrapped a wing around one of them and came to a stop. I got out and got my gear and cleared away, she didn't go up so I went back and got the thermite grenades out of their locker and set one off in the cockpit and the other where the wing had torn open hitting the tree, she went up like a torch."

"I took a minute to put a bandage on my wounds and figure out what I was going to do. I decided to try to find the other pilot; I knew they couldn't be far away. I could see the smoke pyre from the other plane so I knew just about where she'd be. I started hiking and about fifteen minutes later found Bar… Major Thompson."

"We discussed the situation and decided to stay up high, at or just in the tree line. It kept us out of view from the valley below and provided cover if we needed it but at the same time it made travel a little easier, we didn't have to deal with a lot of underbrush. We hiked for three or four hours, until late afternoon, and had gone maybe four or five miles from the crash site. It was rough going and because of Major Thompson's injured ankle and my side we weren't making the best time."

"We came to large rock scree and I tried to find a way we could get through it. I left the Major so she could rest her ankle. I came back about ten minutes later without having found any way that we could get through given our condition. Thompson had done some exploring on her own, she'd found a cave we could shelter in. The entrance was very small, a couple feet square, but it opened into a much larger area. I guess technically it wasn't a cave, a large slab of rock was being supported by other rocks creating the open area, but it was completely covered except for some small gaps high up on one side, roughly eight feet off the floor. It was about ten feet, maybe a little wider and about fifteen feet deep."

"We decided we would spend a couple of days there, healing up and letting any searching the Germans did die down."

"How were you going to survive without food?" A Major, his name tag said Koch, asked.

"We had a couple weeks' worth of K-rations in our E&E bags so we figured we'd be okay for a while. Then that evening while I was down in the forest collecting firewood I managed to sneak up on a young doe, red deer I think, and kill it with my knife. Bar… Major…"

"Colonel Summers," Doolittle interrupted, "since you have been friends with Major Thompson since before you were in the Army I think we understand that you usually refer to each other by your first names. Just do it."

"Yes sir," Buffy said as she blushed a little, "Barb helped butcher it and we stowed the most of the meat in a snow field behind our cave where it froze but we could get to it when we needed to. The Germans sent some patrols up to investigate the crash sites and search for us, but they didn't seem to be that into it. I suspect they figured we went down the mountain as quickly as we could and were in the forests down lower."

"The second day we were there we heard the jets for the first time, they were landing at an airfield in the valley below us. We found a spot near our cave, a little promontory in the rock scree, from which we could observe them. That was the first time we got a good look at what had shot us down. Over the next day or so a squadron moved into that base, eventually we counted nineteen different aircraft being stationed there."

"The third day we were in the cave a series of storms started hitting us; they were basically continuous for the next couple of weeks. When they weather finally cleared a couple of weeks later winter had arrived. We decided that it wouldn't do any good to try to continue our escape given the conditions, we thought we could survive where we were and wait until spring to continue our escape."

"How were you going to feed yourselves?" The Major Koch asked.

"I went down the mountain to try to find some stuff we needed…"

"Alone?" he asked.

"Yes, Barb's ankle was still weak and we didn't want to aggravate the injury and cause a permanent problem or something we couldn't deal with without a doctor. Besides it was less likely one of us alone would be caught, two of us sneaking around would make it twice as likely they would spot us."

"But if you ran into trouble and needed help?"

"Then Barb could probably have survived on her own for the winter with the supplies we already had, if not she could come down and try on her own. She's a perfectly capable woman." I heard a snicker from Simmons but he quickly covered it up when General Miller shot him a glare.

Buffy also glanced briefly at him but then dismissed him and turned her attention back to Doolittle, "I was able to locate the German commissary at the airfield and get some supplies. I was also able to get those two manuals."

"We spent the next week or so studying the manuals and observing the Germans down at the airfield. As we worked our way through the manuals I realized that given the chance we knew enough to fly the Me-262. We started observing the Germans more closely, we soon realized that they launched a two aircraft CAP at dawn every day the weather was decent. After a week I decided to do another reconnaissance of the airfield. I went down in the middle of the night and found a place to observe the German morning flight operations."

Colonel Gorham held up his hand, "How close were you to these operations?"

Buffy seemed to ponder her answer for a moment, "About thirty feet."

"Thirty feet!" squeaked Simmons as he spewed coffee from his mouth, he hastily grabbed a napkin and cleaned up the mess.

Buffy looked over at him, "Thirty feet from the pilots tent, maybe a hundred from the closest plane."

He looked at her in disbelief, "How the hell did you get that close?!"

"I found a mass of brush and branches the Germans had cleared out of the area and was able to work my way under it." Buffy stopped, waiting for another question from Simmons.

Before he could think of anything Doolittle put his hand up, "Go on, Colonel Summers."

Buffy turned her attention back to him, "The Germans had set up two tents about fifty feet into the forest from the cleared area around the runway. As I found out the smaller tent was for the two pilots and an orderly, the larger tent, closer to the aircraft, was for the half dozen or so ground crew. The two planes were just beyond the large tent. From our observations on the mountain I knew that the aircraft were rotated every day and I suspected that the pilots were also."

"About half an hour before dawn I heard a telephone - a German field telephone - ring in the small tent. Someone answered it and said a couple words, Barb was able to work out from my description that it was "'Ready element' and 'Yes sir'. Then I could hear movement in both tents and see some light leaking out of the nearest one. Just before dawn the orderly, he was a private and I assumed that was what he was, stepped out of the tent and rang a bell. The two pilots ran to the planes and got in, the ground crew came out of their tent and got the planes started and then the planes took off."

There was a knock on the door and the Captain got up and went to it and opened it, a Lieutenant was outside and spoke quietly to the Captain for a minute. The Captain turned to the room, "General Miller, your aide would like a quick word with you."

General Miller turned to Doolittle who made a shooing gesture, "Go, General."

Miller went over to his aide and they had a whispered conversation for a few moments, then the General took a small haversack from the aide and returned to his seat. The Captain closed the door and he resumed his seat. Doolittle was looking at Miller curiously, "General?"

He gave a quick negative shake of his head, "It will be relevant in a little while - let's have Colonel Summers continue her report."

Doolittle nodded in agreement, "Continue, Colonel."

She nodded, "A little later all the ground crew and the orderly headed off toward the main section of the base and I was able to get out of my hiding place and headed back up the mountain. Barb and I discussed what I had seen and the implications of it the next day. We decided there was a reasonable chance that we could take the place of the pilots and get back to England, hopefully with a couple of intact Me-262s. We figured it was worth the risk. We thought the information we had collected was too valuable to wait through the winter to get to our people, but at the same time we couldn't travel through the mountains in the winter. I know those jets are going to be a bear for us to handle, especially with what we've got now. With the information in those manuals and what we can learn from the planes we brought back maybe we can get something in the air in time to do some good."

"The next night we snuck down the mountain, when we got to the airfield we used the same hide I'd used the first time. We waited until about an hour before dawn and then I sneaked into the pilot's tent and took care of the pilots."

Colonel Simmons raised his hand, "How did you 'take care' of the pilots?"

Buffy looked uncomfortable, it took her about five seconds to respond, finally she said, "I snapped their necks."

Simmons turned red; then glared at her, "Miss Summers! You can't possible think we'd believe such a…"

Buffy cut him off, "It's 'Colonel' sir! And it is not that hard to snap a man's neck if you know what to do!"

"And you do?"

Buffy slumped back in her chair and glared at him, "Yeah, unfortunately I do."

"You can't…" he sputtered, "do you really…"

Her expression was getting darker by the minute, "I'd offer to demonstrate but it would be sort of hard on the demonstratee… unless you'd care to volunteer?"

General Miller spoke up, "I'm quite certain Colonel Summers is capable of breaking a man's neck if she says she is." He turned to Buffy, "Colonel, rein it in a little."

"Then keep…" she brought herself up short, "Yes sir."

Doolittle spoke up, "Since she is here, since both of them are here, then we'll go with the fact that Colonel Summers can do what she says." He gave her a 'continue' wave.

She nodded and sat back up, "I decided it wasn't necessary to kill the orderly, I tied and gagged him."

Colonel Gorham held up his hand, Buffy turned to him expectantly, "If you did that to the orderly why not to the pilots also?"

"I couldn't be sure of keeping absolute silence if I tried to tie them up, if another woke up while I was dealing with one of them they could sound the alarm. When I got to the orderly I realized he had woken up, I must have made some sound but he was too terrified to do anything. It didn't take much to gag him and tie him up; I didn't think it was necessary to kill him… besides he was just a young boy."

Gorham nodded in understanding and Buffy continued, "I signaled to Barb and she joined me in the tent, we waited until the phone call came and she answered it. We were going to wear the German pilots' coveralls but found out that these two pilots didn't wear coveralls; they flew in their normal uniforms. So we got dressed in their uniforms and then waited until it was time."

"I sent Barb ahead and waited until she was nearly in her aircraft and then I rang the bell and ran like hell. None of the German ground crewmen paid any attention to us, it was still ten minutes before dawn and the area around the planes was pretty dark. We got in our planes and closed the canopies and went through the normal start-up process. The ground crewmen started the small gasoline engine located at the front of each of my engines and it spun the turbines up until they reached starting speed, then I fed them fuel and hit the ignition button and both engines started. After warm-up I directed the ground crew to clear the chocks and then followed Barb as she taxied out to the runway and we took off."

I could see Simmons was growing increasingly agitated as Buffy related what had happened. She shot him a glance but he held himself in check.

"Once we were in the air I assumed the lead and Barb flew as my wingman."

Major Koch spoke up, "Why didn't you take off as the lead?"

"The German Captain was almost exactly Barb's size; she didn't have to adjust much to wear his uniform. The German Lieutenant was slightly smaller than the Captain, closer to my size. Since Barb was impersonating the Captain she had use his aircraft and take-off as lead."

"How did you know which aircraft was his?"

"I asked the orderly, his answer was supported by the position of the aircraft, the closer one was the Captain's. Evidently we were correct because the Germans didn't react to the aircraft we were in. I believe Barb also found that her aircraft was set for her size."

"Yes, I didn't have to make any adjustments to the seat or rudder pedals to fly the plane."

Buffy continued, "We had an uneventful flight until we were over Belgium when we spotted a heavy concentration of German fighters that were attempting to block us."

Gorham raised his hand, "That was the scramble the Brits notified us about this morning?"

"I believe so sir," he nodded for her to continue, "I headed us toward an area where there appeared to be a gap in the blocking forces and when they attempted to adjust their formation to cover it we dove and went through an area where the shifting had disrupted their formation to some…"

Simmons had evidently reached the end of his patience, the skepticism was clear in his voice, "So you were able to avoid all of those German fighters?"

Buffy was startled at the interruption and took a moment to collect her thoughts, "No… we had to fight our way through."

"You fought your way through?"

"I believe I shot down four of their fighters, Barb got two of them I know."

Simmons sat back in his chair with a look that switched between disgust and anger and back again, finally he seemed to settle on disgust, "Lieutenant Colonel Summers, enough with your stories and fantasies! You need to tell us the truth no matter how embarrassing it may be personally. Even you should understand the harm that lying about this can cause!"

"What?!" Buffy let out in a startled squeak.

I glanced at General Miller and he was starting to turn red but before he could say anything Simmons continued, "I imagine it involves some sexual impropriety but we can understand that you had to use questionable morals, even suppress any morals you may have, to facilitate your escape. We know this ridiculous story about hiding in a cave in the mountains for six weeks is just a fabrication. Now, did you find a brothel to hide in or did the Germans capture you and put you to work in the brothel. And what did you two do to those German officers to get you onto the base where you could poison them? We really…"

Buffy finally came out of her shock and cleared the table in one bound. Her diving tackle took Simmons and his chair over backwards, she ended up sitting on his chest and her fist came back to deliver a blow that would have destroyed his face if it didn't kill him outright. She stopped her fist after it had only traveled a couple of inches, at the same moment that General Miller yelled at the top of his lungs, "BUFFY! NO!"

Doolittle and the other officers were scrambling to their feet; several chairs had ended up tilted over in their haste to get away from Buffy. She slowly dropped her fist and then stood up, stepping away from where Simmons was sprawled on the floor on top of his shattered chair. She turned to General Doolittle, her head bowed in shame, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry sir… but that was just too…" She brought herself attention and raised her head to look at him directly, "I'm sorry sir; I apologize for losing my temper."

Simmons had started to recover; he raised himself on his elbows, his face red with fury, "I want that bitch arrested immediately! Assaulting a superior officer! She's going to spend the next twenty years in Leavenworth where she belongs!"

Before anyone could say anything Doolittle stepped around Buffy and up to Simmons. The look he gave Simmons dripped with disgust and anger, Simmons cowered under it. "You are hereby relieved of your post and all responsibilities concerning the 8th Air Force. You are going to be out of the Army as fast as I can get the paperwork done!"

"You can't do that to me!"

Doolittle looked startled at his response, "You have two choices, you resign your commission immediately or I'll have you before a General Court Martial tomorrow morning and I guarantee you will be convicted and sent to prison for so long you will never get out!"

"You can't… I'll talk to the Senator! You can't do that to me!"

Doolittle leaned over him, "You want to bet? Are you feeling lucky?"

Simmons seemed to collapse into the floor, "No… But I'll…"

"Get the hell out of here you sniveling worm. And I want that letter of resignation on my desk by the time I'm done here!"

Simmons slowly got to his feet and walked out the door, the Captain shut it behind him. Doolittle spent a minute kicking pieces of the broken chair toward the fireplace. Finally he turned to Buffy, "Colonel Summers, I don't quite know how to apologize for…"

"No apology is needed, sir."

He looked at her for a moment; then nodded to himself, "You don't need someone to defend you very often, do you Colonel Summers?"

"Sir?"

"It was a simple question."

Buffy thought for a moment, "Sir, I need my men, my girls, to defend me quite often… when we're at war. You can't survive a war without the help of others, no matter how good you are. But I don't, nor do my girls, need to be 'defended' in the sense I think your speaking of. We are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves."

He nodded in agreement, "Well, after that little interruption do you think we can get back to the business of this evening?"

"Yes sir," Buffy said as she walked around the long table, brushing down her uniform and straightening her tie. She picked up her chair and then waited patiently until the other officers got seated.

When we were all in our seats General Miller spoke up, "General Doolittle, did you send a Lieutenant Colonel Norris to the 101st to look at the planes Colonel Summers and Major Thompson brought back?"

"Colonel Norris? I don't know any…" he turned to the Brigadier next to him, he hadn't said a word beyond the initial greeting the entire evening, "or is that the assistant Simmons brought with him?"

The Brigadier nodded, "Yes, that is his 'aide', Simmons brought him from Washington. I've never heard of a Colonel that rated a Lieutenant Colonel as an aide before."

Doolittle nodded and turned back to Miller, "Why?"

"A little while ago my aide interrupted us, I think that explains it."

"Go on."

"Lieutenant Colonel Norris showed up at the 101st late this afternoon with orders from 8th Air Force, signed by you sir, to 'examine and determine the disposition of the German aircraft that had surrendered that morning'. Major Nelson was skeptical but couldn't reach me or anyone here at 8th Air Force to clarify the orders so she acquiesced and permitted him to examine the aircraft. He got in the cockpit of one of the aircraft and evidently he started messing with the controls, he managed to fire the aircraft's guns."

"Jesus shit!" Buffy snapped; then concern came to her face, "Was anyone hurt? Killed?"

"There were a couple of minor shrapnel wounds and evidently he blew quite a hole in the revetment but fortunately he got off the trigger before too many rounds were fired. According to Timmons only two of the cannon were firing."

"They have separate triggers for the two outboard cannon and the two inboard ones," I explained.

Miller nodded, "After the incident Major Nelson had Norris barred from the planes. WO Gunderson, with her approval, decided to disarm the planes. They figured out how to remove the ammunition and clear the weapons so we won't have any more accidents. In the process they found the gun camera and had the base lab process the film. It confirms their kills this morning."

"Sir," I interrupted, "How does it do that? I know that for the first attack I stopped firing before my shells reached the enemy aircraft."

"Gunderson noticed the same thing; he went back and examined the camera installation. Evidently the Germans were aware of the situation; there is a delay on the camera that keeps it filming for about five seconds after the triggers are released."

I nodded in understanding, "That explains why their specification calls for a wider angle lens than we would use; not as much magnification but they get more of a view."

Doolittle thought for a moment, then turned to the Captain, "Have someone call out to the 101st, I want that assho… I want Norris on the same ship back to the States as Simmons, and preferably out of uniform."

"Yes sir."

"Anything else Colonel?"

"One more thing… I'm sure some of you had some question in your mind about Colonel Summers description of being shot down and their shooting down the Germans this morning. This may settle those questions, Gunderson sent this down; he thought I might find it interesting." He reached into the pack and drew out a large cannon shell, a complete round, and set it in the center of the table. I was used to the 20mm ammunition we had used in our P-38s so the thing looked huge, for those that were used to the 50 caliber ammo in most or our fighters it was gigantic. The round was over 8 inches long and the projectile over an inch in diameter and I could see more than 4 inches of it; I didn't know how deeply it was seated in the cartridge case but if it was typical the damn thing was over five inches long.

Major Koch reached out and picked it up and hefted it and then set it down, "Its light for its size, not an armor piercing round but an explosive round… I'd bet it's got the equivalent of better than half a stick of dynamite in it."

Colonel Gorham nodded, "It certainly wouldn't take many of them to knock any aircraft we have down."

"That's what I noticed this morning, a couple hits and the 190s just disintegrated, and they're normally a pretty tough airplane to shoot down." Buffy said.

Doolittle turned to the table, "Let's get this wrapped up. Colonel, if you would…"

Buffy nodded, "Once we got through the first bank of fighters there was only one more flight that could intercept us, they had altitude on us and were far enough back that they could make a diving attack on us. We headed toward them to make it a head on pass and to get through as quickly as possible; I hoped we'd get by without any significant damage. I tried a little experiment and lobbed some rounds at them at extreme range, my aim was off a little and I missed the leader but luck was with me and a couple of them hit his wingman. Their formation broke up as they dodged his disintegrating aircraft and we were able to dodge around them, I don't think they even tried to shoot at us."

"Once we were clear the leader of that flight, at least I assumed it was him, called on the radio. He identified himself as Colonel Adolf Galland, Wing Commander of the 26th fighter wing. He congratulated us on getting away."

"I was watching the three planes we had just gotten past and the leader rocked his wings before he turned away, I'm sure that was him." I added.

Buffy continued, "By that time we were almost over the coast, we came across just north of Brugge and got a little flak from them but nothing serious. Once over the water we turned straight for London, if the Brits were going to try to intercept us we wanted them a long way from where we were actually headed."

Gorham raised his hand, "Why didn't you land at the nearest airfield? Why risk flying all the way up to your old base?"

"The airfields in southern England are much more used to German raiders; they're alert and are probably much better shots than our guys. We haven't been subject to an attack in the nine months we've been at Spilsby. Besides, I wanted our approach to be fast and we know our airfield better than any other, I didn't want us dawdling around low and slow trying to find the runway. And I know our schedule, the likelihood the 101st would be launching or recovering aircraft at that time in the morning would be minimal, lessening our chances of something interfering with us getting on the ground before people started shooting at us."

"It worked, we landed on our old field, but it was close, I ran out of fuel about five seconds after I touched down."

I nodded in agreement, "I lost one engine over the perimeter fence, the other just after I touched down."

Doolittle sat back in his chair and contemplated us for several seconds, finally he asked, "Any questions?"

Major Koch held up his hand and Doolittle nodded to him, "What's it like to fly those planes?"

Buffy looked over at me and gave a little 'go ahead' gesture, I thought for a moment before starting, "They're very clean and very fast. At high speed they're amazingly maneuverable and they keep most of their speed when you bank them hard, they just flow through the air. They are pretty easy to fly, we didn't do a lot of maneuvering but they respond well to the controls and were easy to trim for cruise. That also seems to agree with the information we got from the transition guide."

"They seem to have two main weaknesses; first the engines are very slow to respond to throttle changes. It's not like a piston engine where you can just slam the throttle open or closed and the engine will respond to it. These you have to ease the throttle open, letting the RPMs speed up before adding more fuel, this makes them sluggish to accelerate especially when taking off. From the warnings in the manuals they can't be operated from dirt or grass runways, they have to fly off of paved runways."

"Why?" Gorham asked.

"There is too much danger they'll pick up a stone or other debris in an engine, if they do the engine will disintegrate. The engines are sucking in a tremendous amount of air and they're made up of these little fan blades that are spinning at high revs, up to 12,000 RPMs or so. If anything gets sucked in the turbine blades are destroyed. This is also where the danger of changing the throttle settings seems to be, too much gas too quickly will cause them to 'flame out' and they may or may not survive. Chopping the throttles too fast doesn't seem to be as dangerous but is discouraged because it causes increased wear."

"The other problem is those cannons, they're very destructive but they also have a low muzzle velocity. The 262 is so fast you have almost no time to shoot; getting the proper lead can be difficult. I suspect you'll see they favor overtaking attacks, maybe head on attacks against bombers where they can just lob the shells and let the bomber run into them. But I don't think they'll try to engage in turning or deflection attacks."

"I guess I should add one other weakness, again dealing with the engines. They have a very short life, I think the German's are hoping to get fifty hours out of them but I don't think it's happening, more likely they're getting thirty to forty hours, probably less in combat."

I sat back and Doolittle looked around the room for several moments, no one else seemed to have any questions for us although I sort of wondered why. Then I noticed General Miller seemed to be looking at everyone pretty severely. Finally Doolittle said, "I think we've got the basics and that should be enough for tonight."

There were murmurs of agreement, he turned back to us, "Colonel Summers, Major Thompson, you will not do any flying without my specific permission, understand?"

"Sir?" Buffy squeaked.

"Colonel, I am not going to risk losing either of you. For the next couple of days you are going to be going through extensive debriefings, I'm sure you realize that."

"Yes sir," Buffy said as I nodded in agreement.

"After that you'll be going back to the states, both of you."

Buffy looked resigned, we had both known realistically we wouldn't be going anywhere else, but there had been dreams, "Yes sir."

"My office cabled General Arnold as soon as we confirmed you were back, I've received a directive from the President that you are to be at the White House within a week."

Buffy nodded her head, "I understand, sir."

He looked at us for a long time and then seemed to come to a decision, "General Arnold has ordered that your return be kept quiet, not exactly secret but there isn't to an announcement or any press conferences or public appearances."

"Yes sir," Buffy replied, a slight grin touching the corners of her mouth, "That's just fine with me, sir."

"Don't get used to it, that's only until you get back to the states." Buffy's grin disappeared in an instant and was replaced with grim determination, he smiled at her, "I know what you're going through, and what you are going to be going through. Being back when you didn't expect to make it leaves you in a surreal state, I went through that when we made it to China and then finally made it back to our side with the help of the Chinese. And now you get to look forward to what is going to happen to you when you get to the states. I had the same thing to look forward to when we were coming back from Tokyo as you're going to get when you get to the states - you'll live through it. Hopefully we'll meet again in the not too distant future. Colonel, you're an amazing woman and an outstanding officer."

"Yes sir."

He looked at me, "Major Thompson, I also include you in that."

"Yes sir, but it's the way she is, I'm just along for the ride." I thought for a moment, "What she does comes so naturally to her that you never have any doubts, afterwards you are amazed at what you have accomplished but at the time it doesn't seem that extraordinary."

Buffy looked at me in shock, "You had a lot of doubts about my plan."

"Only until we hashed it out, once everything had been settled it was a very reasonable plan. Extraordinary, outlandish, and unexpected maybe, but also with the potential for an incredible pay back, but then that's what I expect from you."

Buffy reddened a little and I could feel myself flush, this was getting a little too personal for a room full of senior officers. I turned my attention back to the General.

"Well said, Major, but I think you are minimizing your own contributions to the Colonel and your adventures." He looked at both of us for another moment, "There is one thing we're going to deal with this evening, normally I would want to do this a little more formally but Arnold's orders prevents that."

Doolittle turned to Colonel Gorham sitting next to him, "Colonel, if you wouldn't mind being out of uniform for a bit would you give me a set of your eagles?"

Gorham grinned and unpinned the silver eagles from his collar tabs and handed them to Doolittle. We all rose from our seats as the General stood up, he walked around the table and as he approached Buffy and I we came to attention. He walked up to Buffy and unpinned the silver oak leaves from the epaulettes of her tunic and replaced them with the eagles, he shook her hand as he said, "Congratulations, Colonel Summers."

"Thank you, sir."

Then Doolittle stepped in front of me and removed my gold oak leaves and replaced them with Buffy's silver leaves, "Congratulations Lieutenant Colonel Thompson," he said as he took my hand.


	11. Chapter 11: The White House

The C-54 banked slowly around on its approach to Washington National, I looked past Buffy and out the small window and could see the Capital and beyond that the White House. General Doolittle had followed his orders; it was six days since we'd landed back in England and now we were arriving in Washington. It had actually been a fairly relaxing flight, especially after four days of being grilled by the 8th Air Force staff. Buffy had been right, I'd recounted our time in Germany so many times I never wanted to hear or tell that story again.

The C-54 was a large four engine aircraft, based on the Douglas DC-4, and this one was pretty close to the civilian airline version since it was set up as a personnel transport. The seats were relatively large and despite having passengers in all the seats there was plenty of room. Buffy and I, given our rank and travel priority had good seats, just ahead of the wing, with a decent view out the small window. We'd made the flight from England to Halifax the day before and spent the night in the same hotel we had a year and a half earlier - the day before we flew to England for the first time in a pair of P-38s.

The plane tilted as it banked into the landing pattern and our view was obscured as the wing rose. I sat back in my seat and wondered what was waiting for us. For the flight back we had opted for our normal flying uniform, slacks, shirt and tie, jackets and officers cap. We had managed to get new leather jackets to replace the ones we had left behind in Germany but they were bare except for the rank insignia on the epaulettes, we hadn't even had time to get the leather patches with our wings and name sewn onto them. The jackets were stowed in the overhead rack. Our uniform shirts had 8th Air Force patches on the shoulder of the sleeve, our wings over the breast pocket, and our rank insignia on the collar points, otherwise they were bare. Buffy had the silver eagles of a Colonel and I had the silver oak leaves of a Lieutenant Colonel. We had received quite a few odd looks from our fellow passengers; I don't think they were used to seeing female officers, especially of our rank.

As far as I knew Buffy was the only female Colonel in the Army. Jackie Cochran and Nancy Love had been commissioned as Lieutenant Colonels when they started the female pilot program, and they were still Lieutenant Colonels as far as I knew. The only other field grade (Major, Lieutenant Colonel, or Colonel) female officers that I was aware of were Tammie Nelson, now the CO of the 101st, and Helen Carson who was organizing the 143rd although there may have been a couple of more in their organizations that I hadn't heard of.

The travel priority on our orders, 6A, coupled with our rank, had insured we got seats on the flights we needed. A Major General, his name tag read 'B. McRae', had raised a stink in Halifax when we bumped his two aides but passenger control had refused to budge. Despite the fact that we outranked the aides I think they would have bumped us except for the clause at the bottom of our orders, I'd never seen one like it before:

'_If removed from scheduled flight removing authority will immediately cable Commanding General, USAAF, Washington, DC and Commanding General, 8__th__ Air Force, ETO with reason for removal and alternative assigned flight schedule.'_

In other words if they bumped us off any of our flights they had to tell General Hap Arnold and Doolittle why and what they were going to do about getting us to our destination.

The plane leveled out and I heard the whine of the flaps going down and felt her slow down. Then additional whines and thumps and more slowing signaled the landing gear lowering. I glanced out the window and saw water below us, getting closer rapidly, and then we were over land and moments later a concrete runway appeared below us. With a moderate thump we touched down; then we settled more on the wheels and I could feel the slight jarring as we rolled over the expansion cracks in the runway. The engines roared and we decelerated more rapidly, slowing to the point where the plane could turn and take one of the numerous cross paths over to the taxiway and then turn again to head back toward the terminal building.

A couple of minutes later there was some final maneuvering and then we came to a stop, the engines started shutting down and a few moments later there was silence, a little startling after hours of roaring engines. People started getting out of their seats and collecting their belongings, I stood up and grabbed our jackets and caps off the rack above our seats and handed Buffy hers. There was a 'thunk' as something hit the plane and a moment later the door behind the starboard wing opened, letting bright light and a cold gust of wind into the stuffy cabin. A few moments later the line of passengers in the central aisle started moving slowly toward the rear of the airplane.

I stayed standing in front of my seat as the more senior officers from the front of the plane filed past, the General we had pissed off scowling at me as he went by. When the aisle cleared I stepped out and Buffy followed me, both of us slipping on our jackets and caps as we neared the door. We stepped out onto the platform at the top of the boarding ladder and I looked around, it was a bright clear day but a cold damp wind was blowing off the Potomac River, I hastily zipped my jacket closed.

I let Buffy step ahead of me; rank hath its privileges, and followed her down the boarding stairs. I noticed General McRae from Halifax standing near the line of passengers heading for the terminal, a Captain with an MP brassard around his arm stood beside him and a couple MP Sergeants were behind them. We got off the boarding ladder and headed for the terminal when the MP Captain stepped in front of us, he gave us a scowl and growled, "Ladies, let's see your orders and Id cards."

I looked over his shoulder and saw the General give us a nasty grin, I just shrugged my shoulders and dug my ID card out of my breast pocket and handed it to him. Buffy had already handed him her ID card and our orders, he glanced at them briefly and then looked up, "Come with me."

Buffy didn't move, the other people leaving the plane had to curve around our group, giving us curious looks as the passed, "Where?"

"Back to my office while we find out what is going on!" He nodded to his two sergeants and they moved up to stand on either side of us.

Buffy glanced at them and her expression hardened, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Why are you two girls are trying to impersonate army officers! You didn't really think you could get away with it did you?"

Before Buffy could say anything a young Lieutenant came up and saluted Buffy, "Colonel Summers, Colonel Thompson, I have a car waiting for you, the driver will get your bags."

Buffy returned his salute and the MP Captain looked at him in disgust, "Another imposter? I think you had better come with us."

The Lieutenant looked in shock at the Captain, "What? I'm an aide…"

Before he could say anything more the Captain interrupted him, "Keep your mouth shut or you'll be in even more trouble. Now come along!" He turned around and started walking toward a small building beside the main terminal. As he passed McRae he said, "Sir, You'll need to come with us to sign the incident report."

The two sergeants started crowding the three of us, trying to drive us after the Captain and General McRae. Buffy scowled at them and they backed off a little; then she muttered under her breath, "I guess it will be quicker to get this fool straightened out than to just deck these idiots and go about our business."

I could see the Captain stiffen but he didn't turn around, McRae glanced over his shoulder and I saw him start to pale and his eyes widened a little as he looked closer at the Lieutenant. He turned back to the Captain and started to say something that I couldn't hear. The Captain responded, "They're just dressed up, sir, we'll find out the truth soon enough."

I looked at the Lieutenant walking beside me, his name tag read C. R. Koback, he appeared stunned and at a loss. He had the gold aiguillette of an aide-de-camp and in place of his branch of service insignia on his collar was an aide's device, it consisted of a golden eagle on top of a blue shield containing a ring of stars. I'd seen aide's devices before, they indicated who they were an aide to but I couldn't remember having ever seen one like his. I had no idea what it meant but I guessed it had something to do with the Pentagon.

When we entered the building we came into a large office area with half a dozen desks. At the far side was a hallway leading further into the building. The front office seemed deserted, not surprising for a Sunday afternoon I guessed. The two sergeants herded us to a corner beside a desk cluttered with papers and a typewriter before stepping back to stand near the door. The Captain took McRae back to another desk and offered him a seat at the side of the desk, after the General sat down the Captain took his seat behind the desk and started working on some papers. The General said something I couldn't hear and he responded, "This will only take me a minute and you'll be on your way, sir."

I turned to Buffy, "What the hell do they think they're doing?"

She shook her head in disgust, and then muttered softly, "There are a lot of incredibly stupid people in the Army."

The Lieutenant reached down and picked the receiver off of the telephone on the desk beside us and started dialing, the sergeants were talking quietly to each other and not paying attention and the Captain had his nose buried in his paperwork, McRae's back was to us. Whoever he called answered almost immediately, he rattled off a couple of numbers and waited a few moments more, then said "Koback, sir."

I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, just the Lieutenant's responses, "I have them sir."

…

"No sir, some MP Captain has hauled us to his office."

…

"At the airport…"

One of the sergeants evidently noticed him at that point because suddenly he was beside him and jerked the telephone out of his hand and slammed it down, "Nobody said you could make any phone calls!"

The MP Captain looked up, "What the hell?"

The sergeant turned to him, "The Lieutenant was calling someone on the phone, sir."

"Keep control of the prisoners, Sergeant!" he growled and then continued working on his papers.

The other sergeant came up and the two of them crowded us back into the corner and scowled at us. I glanced over at Buffy but she just shook her head in disgust, I nodded in agreement. We'd run into our fair share of hassles since we'd joined the Army, but this was a new one.

A couple of minutes later the Captain handed McRae the papers he had been working on, McRae glanced at them briefly and then signed them. Both of them stood up as the MP Captain said, "Thank you for bringing this situation to our attention, sir. We'll take care of it from here, I suspect we'll find out they're some English hookers trying to get into the country illegally or something like that."

I glanced at Buffy, instead of exploding like I expected she put one hand on her hip and the other up to her hair, she looked sultrily up at the Lieutenant standing beside her. She batted her eye lashes at him and in a reasonable British accent she asked, "Want a good time, big boy?"

She spoke loud enough that both the General and the MP Captain's heads jerked around to stare at her wide eyed. Outside I heard squealing tires followed almost immediately by a slamming door. A moment later the door to the building came flying open and Colonel came storming through. His uniform tunic was on crooked, he hadn't gotten it buttoned correctly, and he wasn't wearing a cap. He did have an MP brassard around his arm and his face was red, he looked like he was about to explode, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!"

In the silence that followed I heard Buffy mutter under her breath, "And the cavalry arrives in the nick of time."

The silence continued for another couple of seconds as the MP Captain and General McRae exchanged a glance, then the Captain responded, "Sir, we caught a couple women traveling under fake orders and it looks like we may have got one of their accomplices here also. The General was on a flight from Halifax when he noticed them; I've checked their papers and they are obvious forgeries."

"And how the hell did you determine that?!"

"Well… they're women… and they're trying to pass as senior officers…"

"Jesus! I'm amazed you could even correctly determine their gender considering the stupidity…"

General McRae interrupted him, "Colonel, get control of yourself!"

The MP Colonel's head swiveled between the General and the Captain for several moments; then he took a deep breath and seemed to calm himself. "Sir, I believe you may have had a significant error in judgment."

"What are you talking about?" McRae asked.

"I'm sure you have heard of Buffy Summers and Barbara Thompson, the two leading fighter pilots in the Army Air Force!"

"Of course, they were killed a couple of months ago!" he snapped back.

Buffy spoke up, "See Barb, I told you this whole resurrection thing is going to be one big pain in the ass."

The three officers turned to look at her and she smiled sweetly back at them, then the MP Colonel went on, "They weren't killed, they were shot down and escaped from Europe. And right now they are standing over there while the President is waiting for them at the White House! And he is not happy about it!"

That rang a bell in my mind and I glanced back at the Lieutenant standing beside us, digging back through my memories from when we first came into the Army I remembered the picture of the devices aides wore to designate who they were an aide to. The last device pictured was the one where the shield was blue with a circle of stars, worn by the aide-de-camps to the President of the United States.

I looked back at them when McRae started to talk, "But she's so small!"

"Hey!" Buffy snapped, "I'm just the right height for my size!"

The Lieutenant spoke up, "Sir, may we leave now? I have a car waiting for the Colonels."

The MP Colonel turned away from the other two and stepped over to us, he held out his hand to Buffy and she took it, "It's an honor to meet you, ma'am."

She shook his hand, "Thank you for rescuing us, Colonel."

He nodded and released her hand and turned to me, I took it as he said, "And you Lieutenant Colonel Thompson."

"Thank you sir," I replied.

He let go of my hand and turned to the Lieutenant, "You may go, Lieutenant. I'll deal with this… idiocy."

"Yes sir," he said and then gestured for us to precede him out the door.

As we walked by the MP Captain and General McRae Buffy addressed him, "By your leave, sir." But she didn't stop or even slow waiting for him to respond. I followed behind her and saw his eyes tracking her, too stunned to say anything.

Once outside the Lieutenant lead us to a Packard staff car on the far side of the main terminal, a sergeant stood by the door and came to attention as we came up and saluted us. Buffy returned his salute as he said, "Ma'am, I've got two duffle bags for you and two for Colonel Thompson and a garment bag of yours in the trunk. Is that all your luggage?"

"Yes, thank-you sergeant. And don't 'ma'am' me… I'm not old enough for that."

"Buffy, drop it… we're going to get 'ma'am'ed everywhere we go, it's a waste of breathe to try to change everyone's habits."

Buffy scowled up at me for a moment and then her expression softened and she smiled and shrugged, "Yeah, you're probably right."

Lieutenant Koback spoke up, "Ma'am…" Buffy's glare brought him to a stop and after a moment he continued, "ah… sir, if we can get going?"

"Are we going straight to the White House?"

"No sir, we've got a couple hours before they're expecting you. You, and Colonel Thompson, have a suite at the Mayflower. General Watson thought you might like to have a chance to clean up and change into your dress uniforms before you report to the House."

Buffy nodded, "Thank-you Lieutenant." I started to get into the rear of the staff car as the sergeant held the door for me. The Lieutenant was heading around the car for the front passenger seat when Buffy called out "Shotgun!"

He stopped in confusion and turned to look at her, I caught his eye, "The Colonel doesn't like to ride in the back – the Colonel would prefer the front seat, Lieutenant."

Buffy glanced at me as she headed around the car, "The Colonel also doesn't like to be talked about as if she wasn't here." I just grinned at her.

"Yes sir," Koback nodded as he lead her around the car and opened both the doors, Buffy got into the front seat and he closed the door and then got into the back seat behind her. I got in the other side and the sergeant closed the door after me.

Buffy squirmed around and muttered under her breath, "Damn I wish they had seat belts in these damn things!"

The sergeant was getting in behind the wheel, "Sir?"

She looked at him, "Seat belts! So I don't get thrown through the windshield when you run into something!"

"Sir! I won't run into anything!"

"Make sure you don't sergeant – let's get this rolling death trap on the road."

Forty-five minutes later we pulled up to the ornate front entrance to the Mayflower hotel, Buffy turned in her seat to look back at me, "Sometimes I think combat sorties are safer than driving around this damn city!" She turned back to let herself out but the doorman was already opening the doors; she glanced back at the sergeant behind the wheel, "Thanks for keeping us alive."

He grinned up at her, "Thank you ma… sir."

I scooted across the seat and followed Lieutenant Koback out of the car as the sergeant got out to open the trunk. A porter collected our luggage and we headed into the hotel. Half an hour later we were checked into our rooms. The suite consisted of a comfortably furnished front room and a single bedroom with a huge bed and an adjacent bath.

I had won the toss and got first dibs on the bath and had luxuriated in it for half an hour while Buffy entertained the Lieutenant in the parlor. Finally I got out and let Buffy have her turn. After drying off and getting my hair brushed out and in some semblance of order, I still needed to get a haircut, I'd put on the heavy robe provided by the hotel and went back out into the front room. We had sent our dress uniforms out to be pressed while we got cleaned up but they weren't back yet so I passed the time talking to the Lieutenant.

Twenty minutes later I heard the bedroom door open and glanced up to see Buffy standing in the doorway, her arms over her head toweling her hair dry and not a stitch of clothing on, "Barb, have our uniforms come back yet?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Lieutenants mouth drop open in shock as he looked up at her, "Buffy!" It came out almost as a squeak and I had to take a moment to get control of my voice back, "we aren't at the 101st!"

Buffy froze, her gaze settling on the Lieutenant staring at her, I could see her start to redden and then she visibly took control of herself. She casually resumed drying her hair as she looked at Koback, after a few moments she said, "Lieutenant, it's impolite to just stare."

Finally he snapped out of it and jerked around until he was facing the other direction, "Sorry, ma'am."

She looked at him for a second, "It's also impolite to turn your back on someone you're talking to."

He turned to me, I could see he was lost as to how he was supposed to behave, "Just try to act like she's got clothes on, look at her but don't stare and try to keep your thoughts off the more prurient level. Think of it as looking at a nude painting in a museum."

He tried to compose himself as he turned back to her, "Sorry ma… sir."

"Don't worry about it Lieutenant, we all have to learn. So are we going to get some clothes or is this show going to continue?"

"Buffy, the uniforms aren't back yet, there is a robe hanging on the bathroom door - you could use it."

She nodded and disappeared into the bedroom, the Lieutenant turned back to me and after a moment asked, "Sir, what did you mean you 'aren't at the 101st'?"

"I meant we weren't at our old base."

"But what did that have to do with…" He glanced significantly at the open door to the bedroom.

"Ah…" We hadn't tried to keep the integration of the sexes at the 101st secret but we also hadn't gone out of our way to talk about it either. I think it was becoming more and more widely known in England but so far no one in the hierarchy had raised a stink. I didn't know how much longer that was going to last. The base chaplain and his assistant had nearly had a conniption fit when we first did it, but they'd kept quiet at Buffy's request for a month, and after they had seen how it was working had reluctantly agreed that it did work. The assistant chaplain had even become an enthusiastic supporter of the policy, but I wasn't at all sure that the enthusiasm was completely in line with his church's doctrine.

I figured sometime, and probably not too long in the future, some prude was going to start raising hell about the policies and I had no idea how the upper command was going to respond. And when it got back to here I was sure there was going to be all kinds of complaints, but then from what I understood there were already all kinds of complaints just about our existence. Fortunately the necessities of war and the success of our group had put a lid on them; they couldn't complain that we couldn't do the job when we had had the highest number of credited kills per month for any fighter group for six of the last seven months, only losing to the 89th the month we transitioned to P-51s.

I thought 8th Air Force would probably back the policy since we had managed to maintain a lower pregnancy rate than any other army unit with female personnel. There had only been 2 over the nine months that we'd been overseas that I knew of, and none of them officers. And one of them could be shown to have nothing to do with our integration policies; she'd been pregnant - although she hadn't known it - before she left the States.

I realized I hadn't responded to the Lieutenant when he interrupted my musings, "Uh… sir?"

I shook my head and came back to the present, "Sorry… It's just…" I could feel myself begin to blush and I tried again, "We didn't have anything to spare in the way of quarters or facilities at Spilsby, so we integrated the base."

"Integrated? I didn't know you had Negroes in the 101st."

I shook my head, "Not racial integration, gender integration."

"Gender integration?"

Buffy came out of the bedroom, her hair brushed back into a ponytail that went halfway down her back, she was belting the robe as she came across the room, "What she means is all the men and women lived in the same quarters and shared the same heads. That's why I didn't think about putting anything on before I interrupted you before. Sorry if I embarrassed you, Lieutenant."

"No sir! That was quite all right…"

Buffy grinned at him as his voice trailed off, "Meaning once you got over the shock you enjoyed looking at me?"

He started to turn red but managed to stammer out, "Uh… well… yes sir!"

She smiled at him, "Good, I'm glad you think I'm good to look at… it's better than being thought of as ugly. Beauty may be only skin deep… but I bet if you had to parade around in the buff among members of the opposite sex all the time you'd probably try to keep in better shape."

The Lieutenant looked down at himself; his stomach stretching his uniform a little, then looked back at Buffy, "Too much desk time sir… and you're probably right."

She nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I think the 101st was in the best shape it ever was last summer… then we started to slack off a little, maybe a little familiarity breeds contempt syndrome? It would probably have been better if we had a more regular turnover of personnel but other than for loses we didn't have many transfers."

The Lieutenant glanced at his watch, "Crap!"

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Buffy asked.

"We should be leaving soon; we're supposed to be at the White House in half an hour and you can never tell about the traffic at this time of day. Sometimes I don't think gasoline rationing applies to anyone in Washington. I better check on your uniforms…"

He was interrupted by a rap on the door and a voice from the other side, "Concierge!"

Buffy started walking toward the door when the Lieutenant hopped up from the couch, "I'll get it, sir."

She stopped, "Thanks, Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant went over to the door and opened it to a uniformed hotel employee holding our freshly pressed uniforms on hangers. He slipped the man a bill as he took the uniforms from him and shut the door. He turned back to us and Buffy nodded toward the bedroom, "Thanks, just put them on the bed."

We followed him into the bedroom; he laid out the uniforms and said, "Would you like me to start putting the accoutrements on them?"

Buffy was going through her duffle, tossing bra, panties, and socks on the bed as she came to them, "That would be a help, mine are up on the left side of the dresser and Barb's stuff is on the right."

He stood up and tried to be act nonchalant when Buffy dropped her robe and started pulling on her underwear. I got my stuff out of my duffle and dropped the robe and started dressing. Buffy was standing beside the Lieutenant in bra and panties as he finished pinning her eagles to the collar points of her shirt and handed it to her, "Thanks, Lieutenant. How much do I owe you for the tip?"

The Lieutenant glanced up from where he was working on my shirt, "That's okay ma… sir."

She shook her head as she pulled on the shirt, "No, you don't have to pay for us."

"Just a couple dollars… steep, but this is the Mayflower and he was pretty quick."

Buffy walked over to the dresser and picked up a thin wallet, we didn't bother trying to carry purses with us. They were never convenient and neither of us wore any make-up when in uniform so we didn't need the space, instead we'd gotten slim leather wallets to hold our IDs and money when we were off base. Buffy got out a couple of bills and came back to the bed and handed them to him before she started buttoning up her shirt. The Lieutenant handed me my shirt and I put it on and then continued dressing as he worked on getting ribbons, wings, and all the other devices properly positioned on our uniform coats.

By the time Buffy and I had completed dressing he had the coats ready and held them for us as we slipped them on. Buffy and I checked ourselves in the large mirror on the side wall and then checked each other, habit from when we'd first joined the Army and you got jumped on something fierce if your uniform wasn't squared away.

We looked at each other and I couldn't help smiling, "Well Buffy - ready to go face the world?"

She looked up at me and reluctantly nodded, "I keep having this recurring thought… it might have been much smarter for us to have just stayed in that cave."

I shrugged my shoulders, "We'll never know now, will we?"

She shook her head and turned toward the door, the Lieutenant was looking at us, "What cave, sir?"

"Are you going to be with us tonight, Lieutenant?"

"I doubt it, sir. My understanding is that this is supposed to be a private dinner for the two of you and the President and his wife and a couple of senior officers, my boss, General Watson, and General Arnold, I believe."

Buffy thought for a moment, "I think I'll make sure you are invited, unless you don't want to be among all the high and mighty."

He looked shocked, "No sir, I'd… I'd really enjoy it."

She nodded, "Good, then I don't have to tell you about the cave now, I'm sure I'll have to tell it tonight at least once."

Buffy was right, we had had to tell the story during the course of drinks and dinner. The Lieutenant had also been right, the party consisted of the President and his wife and his oldest son, James, a Marine Major, along with General Watson, Roosevelt's senior military aide, and General Hap Arnold, Commanding General of the Army Air Forces.

Buffy and I had first met Eleanor Roosevelt and General Arnold in England when they were trying to court martial General, at that time Colonel, Miller for getting Buffy killed by letting us fly combat. The court martial, or more correctly the Article 32 hearing was brought to an abrupt close when she walked into the court room after having escaped from Europe. It's tough to win a negligent homicide case when the victim isn't dead. We had met the President shortly after that when we had returned from England to form the 101st. We hadn't met General Watson or James Roosevelt before but they all tried to make us feel comfortable as we chatted and related the tale of our escape. When Buffy had asked that Lieutenant Koback be permitted to join us it also got General Arnold's aide included.

Dinner was almost over, I was finishing the last of my Crème Brulee, and Buffy had just completed relating our final brush with the Luftwaffe in the Me-262s. The President looked at seriously for a moment and then asked, "Colonel Summers, what is your honest assessment of the air situation in Western Europe, specifically with the introduction of these new fighters by the Germans."

"Honestly sir?" Buffy asked, looking a little nervously at General Arnold, "I'm not sure I'm qualified to do that."

FDR shot a look at Arnold who nodded minutely and addressed Buffy, "Colonel, I think you are eminently qualified – you've been fighting over there longer than most."

Buffy looked at him for a moment and then shrugged slightly, "If you'll excuse my French, we're in deep ca-ca… really deep ca-ca if they are able to field those planes in any significant number."

General Watson spoke up, "And why do you say that?"

Buffy thought for a moment, "Two reasons primarily, first with the speed advantage they have they control the fight. In most cases they'll be able to select if and when we fight, so they'll pick the times when they have the advantage. Second, that plane has one nasty set of guns. They've got four 30mm cannon, they aren't the greatest guns; they have a low muzzle velocity so their range isn't that great. But once you learn to use them it only takes one or two hits to bring down a fighter and not many more to bring down a bomber. Once they get the numbers and learn how to use them they are going to be a real pain."

General Arnold looked at me, "Colonel Thompson, do you have an opinion?"

I nodded, "I think Buff… Colonel Summers is dead on. The only saving grace is that they seem to be having a real problem with the engines, both in reliability and service life."

"Meaning?" FDR asked.

"They're going to have lousy operational readiness," at the questioning expression on FDR's face I expanded, "the number of aircraft that will be ready for missions at any given time isn't going to be good. In the 89th and the 101st we ran around 95% when we were flying combat…"

General Arnold broke in, "Sir, most fighter groups in combat run about 80%... the 89th and 101st are exceptional – due in no small part to Colonel Thompson being the group maintenance officer for the 101st."

I could feel myself redden slightly, "It wasn't me, sir… It was the maintenance crews."

He shook his head slightly, "Leadership is always the key… but go on Colonel."

It took a moment to recollect where I was, "I think the Germans, at least initially, are going to be lucky to get to 60%. From what we were able to observe of the squadron it seemed they were changing engines on half a dozen planes all the time. From what I was able to glean from the maintenance manual Bu… Colonel Summers obtained it seemed like they expected an operational life of 40 to 50 hours. I don't think they were getting half that in the squadron we observed, it seemed more like 20 to 25 hours."

FDR chuckled a little, "Colonel, we're all aware of Colonel Summers rather unique moniker, if you're more comfortable with it then use it."

Buffy spoke up, "I have a perfectly fine name."

FDR grinned at her, "Yes, you do… it's just a little incongruous given what… let us say your professional predilections."

Buffy scowled a little, then smiled and shrugged, "Yeah, people seem to expect an airhead for some unknown reason." Buffy looked around the room, "We were friends before we joined the Army and that hasn't changed, we've never been much for formality between us."

FDR nodded and turned to me, "Do you have any idea why the German's are having such difficulties? They're usually damn fine engineers."

"I'm not sure… I'm not an engineer…"

"But?"

"Well… trying to read between the lines in a foreign language is difficult but I developed the impression that they aren't able to use the materials they really want to use in some of the critical parts; the way some of the sections, maintenance and checks and such, about the turbine blades seem to have been modified to stress being more careful around them. It felt like they are a lot more fragile than they should be… or it may just be that they found out that they are."

General Arnold was nodding his head, "You may have something. One thing the German's haven't succeeded in doing is getting their sources for some minerals, especially ones used in high grade metallurgy, stabilized. We've had requests, and I've forwarded them to 8th AF, to strike at their steel refining capability. Shortages in those materials can cause all kinds of problems in lots of applications."

I noticed General Watson glance at his wrist and then look up, "This is a most interesting discussion but we need to bring it to a close, it's time to move on to the final event of this evening."

I wasn't sure what that meant but we found out shortly. They lead us through various hallways until we came into a large room, it looked like it was a ballroom, that was filled with reporters and cameras started flashing. We came into the room near one end and immediately went up onto a raised platform with a podium with half a dozen microphones on it. The President rolled up onto the stage but when he got near the podium his son and General Watson helped him to his feet and he stood behind the microphones.

General Arnold directed Buffy and I to stand near the side of the podium. When the reporters saw us the noise level went up and some of them started yelling questions at us. We didn't respond and after a moment FDR raised his hands and the room quieted. A technician of some sort came up to the other side of the podium, "Sir, we can go live anytime you're ready."

FDR nodded to him, "I'm ready, son."

He nodded and waited about fifteen seconds and then started counting down, "Five… four… three…" then he went silent but he continued the count down with his fingers.

When he hit zero a red light came on at the back of the podium, a few moments later FDR began speaking, "Good evening fellow countrymen. Several months ago a great tragedy struck our country when we lost two of our finest young fighter pilots, Buffy Summers and Barbara Thompson. I am pleased to inform you tonight that our grief was premature, both Colonel Summers and Thompson evaded death and capture by the Germans and escaped from continental Europe and returned to England last week. They are now here beside me."

The President's speech went on for about ten minutes, he did not go into details about our escape all though he did acknowledge that we did it by 'taking possession' of some German aircraft and flying back to England. He had to stop several times to wait for applause and cheering from the assembled reporters to quiet down. When he finished he turned to General Arnold while General Watson helped him walk a little closer to us.

General Arnold read the citation awarding me the Distinguished Service Cross, when he completed it FDR pinned the medal to my tunic and shook my hand. I stepped back to make way for Buffy, when General Arnold completed reading the citation awarding her the Medal of Honor the President placed the blue ribbon with the star shaped medal around her neck as Buffy blushed red.


	12. Chapter 12: The Separation

The next morning we were awoken early by a call from General Arnold's aide, he was in the lobby with orders to pick us up and have us at Arnold's office by 0900. Buffy told him to get a key from the front desk and come to our room and to order coffee and Danishes for breakfast, we would be out when we were showered and dressed.

When we had returned the previous night the hotel had offered a roll away bed but we had declined and had shared the large bed, but that was all we had shared. I was in a quandary, what we had done in the cave the evening before our escape had been fantastic, I had never felt anything nearly so good, physically or emotionally. Since then too much had been happening and too many people had been around to even think about repeating it. Even the night in the hotel in Halifax all we had done was share a kiss and sleep in each other's arms, exhausted from the pace in England followed by the long flight. Now we had a private hotel room and I didn't know what I wanted.

As we got ready for bed Buffy had watched me as I removed my clothes and followed my example. I took off my clothes slowly, thinking about what I wanted and unable to come to a decision, then I found myself nude. I thought for a moment about putting my panties back on but instead I crawled into bed as I was. Buffy smiled slightly and stripped off her remaining clothes and crawled into bed and lay quietly on the other side.

Finally I reached over and took her hand, "Congratulations, Buffy."

She was startled, "Huh? Congratulations for what?"

"For your medal, silly."

She squeezed my hand, "Oh… thanks, and congratulations to you."

"Thank you."

I tugged on her hand slightly and she immediately rolled over until she was pressed against me, she lay on her side, her head nestled on my shoulder. Her leg came across mine and I could feel the soft curls of her bush pressed against my hip. I wrapped my arm around her and held her against me while her arm came up and cupped my breast. I nuzzled the top of her head until she tilted her head back and I raised mine, she stretched up, her body sliding on mine, until our lips met. The kiss lasted a long time, our lips caressing each other and then opening to let our tongues explore. Finally we separated and I felt her body slide down a little as she laid her head on my chest. Her fingers were softly brushing my breast, caressing it and then playing with the nipple that stood erect for her.

"Buffy, I don't know what to do."

"About what?"

"About making love with you… about us becoming lovers."

"We've made love, we are lovers."

I shook my head slightly, "No… we've made love… but I'm not comfortable with us being lovers… at least not yet." Her hand stopped playing with my breast and I could feel her muscles tense as she prepared to move away from me. "Buffy…"

She didn't move but she didn't relax either, after a moment she prompted me, "What?"

I thought for a moment, "Would it be too hard for you to just hold me tonight?"

I felt her relax against me and then I felt her cheek crinkle a little, I knew she was smiling, "I'll hold you for as many nights as you need."

"I'm sorry, Buffy, I…"

She interrupted me, "Shush… there is nothing to be sorry about. I'll wait… I may take a little longer in the shower in the morning than normal…"

It took me a minute to think of what she was implying; then it came to me, "I'm sorry, you don't…"

"Barb, I was just letting you know."

I lay there for a minute trying to think of how to respond; finally I decided "You know, that was not something that you really had to tell me."

"TMI"

"TMI?"

"Too much information."

I nodded, "Yeah, TMI. Good night Buffy."

"Good night, Barb."

I had gone to sleep with her in my arms and woken when the phone rang. She finished talking with the aide and lay back down beside me, her body pressed against mine. I tugged her and she slid up until we could share a long kiss, when we finally broke I looked up into her eyes, "Time for your long shower."

She grinned down at me, "Won't have to be that long, I think I'll go off real quick!"

"TMI!"

She was still smiling as she hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. I lay on the bed imagining what she was doing in the bathroom, wondering if she had been serious or was just kidding; then a small sound from the bathroom told me she had been serious. My hand moved of its own accord down my body and I found myself accompanying her.

We had gotten dressed and had our breakfast and rode quietly through the city and back over toward Washington National until we came to a huge new building, the Pentagon, which had been completed earlier in the year. The aide led us through a maze of passageways until we finally came to General Arnold's office. We arrived a little early but only had to wait for a couple of minutes; then we were escorted into his office. Buffy and I walked to the front of his desk and came to attention, then Buffy raised her hand in salute, "Colonel Summers, Lieutenant Colonel Thompson, reporting as ordered, sir!"

Arnold returned her salute, "At ease, Colonels, take a seat ladies." He indicated with his head a pair of chairs to the side of his desk. We walked over to them and sat down while he swiveled his chair to face us, "Coffee?"

"Yes sir," both Buffy and I chorused.

He nodded to his aide who asked, "Colonel Summers?"

"Black"

Before he asked me I echoed her, "Black, also."

We talked with Arnold; he seemed to be trying to get our measure. While we had met, and even talked for a while before we had organized the 101st those conversations had been more about what we were going to have to deal with. Now he seemed to be searching for something else, his questions were more probing but I couldn't identify what he was trying to determine. And it seemed that he was looking for something different from Buffy than from me. We had been discussing tactics and methods for fighting the Germans and what our experiences and thoughts were about the Germans.

Then the conversation to a new track, "Colonel Summers, I've been hearing some strange, maybe even outlandish tales, about the 101st's organization at Spilsby."

"Sir?" Buffy asked, puzzled by the question, "it's a standard three squadron fighter group, our fourth squadron has always been here in the states providing replacements, as I'm sure you're aware."

He shook his head, "I was referring more to the quarters at the base."

'Oh no, shits going to hit the fan now,' I thought.

Buffy was still for a moment, then spoke very calmly, "It's a standard arrangement; each squadron has three Quonset huts, each with half a dozen two man rooms and the rest open barracks. We've got another couple of barracks Quonsets for the group officers and enlisted personnel in the headquarters cluster."

He nodded, "Yes… but the 101st doesn't have a normal complement, most of your officers are female and I also understand almost 15% of your enlisted personnel are female. How do you accommodate them?"

Buffy sat back in her chair and looked at him steadily for a few moments, "The 101sts personnel are assigned quarters based on their unit and rank."

He looked at her seriously, his eyes widened a little, "Then the rumors are true?!"

I could tell Buffy was forcing herself to remain calm, "I don't know what the rumors are, sir."

"That you have men and woman living together! That they're sharing the same heads!"

"Yes sir."

He seemed startled by her casual response; it was feigned casual I knew but she carried it off well, "How could you do that!"

"Because it was necessary, sir."

"WHAT?!"

"We were having too many conflicts within the group, the group, and even worse the squadrons, were not becoming cohesive entities. I can't lead them into combat; nobody can lead into combat, if the underlying components aren't working together - at least not effectively."

"And you think turning your group into one giant orgy helped!"

"Sir, there has not been one single orgy that I'm aware of, and I would have been aware of it. Men and women and perfectly capable of living together without jumping each other's bones just because they see a member of the opposite sex without any clothes on. In fact it's easier, and safer for the women, the men treat them like sisters just like they treat each other as brothers. I think some of the girls have even gotten a little frustrated because the men they're interested won't respond because they are like brother and sister."

"The NCOs, both male and female, have learned to come down hard on anyone that starts getting too pushy or tries to take advantage. Usually they don't even have to do anything; others in the unit will take care of the trouble makers. I only had to deal with one case since we integrated, an attempted rape and that was prevented by the intended victim and her platoon mates; he was in pretty bad shape when the MPs got to him. Once we started investigating we didn't even have to hold a court martial, it turned out he was an escapee from prison where he was in for life on a couple of rape convictions."

"Sometimes it takes newbies a few days and maybe a talk or two for them to adjust, but it's really not that hard to adapt to. It eased a lot of the tension that was developing within the group, and I think it actually makes life easier for everyone. They may not get the sex they want but they get to see and interact with members of the opposite sex all the time."

Arnold was looking at her sternly, I couldn't tell if he was accepting her statements or not, "And you're comfortable being seen in the nude, ogled by men."

"We try to teach the men, and women, not to ogle."

He turned to me, "And you've exposed yourself to men… to dozens of men at a time… and you're okay with it?"

"Yes sir." He stared at me, I think trying to determine if I was really telling the truth, "It's not one sided, sir. It's not like a strip club where a bunch of guys with their clothes on are yelling at me to take mine off. If I'm nude with some guy then he's probably nude to, or was the last time I saw him when I had some clothes on."

He looked back at Buffy and she stood up and started unbuttoning her uniform coat, "Would you like to see if my body is significantly different than any other woman's body you've seen?"

"NO Colonel Summers I would not! Sit down!"

Buffy buttoned her coat and sat back down, "Sir, I don't mean to sound flippant but I suspect that you, and most of your classmates, had issues, inside yourselves probably, the first time you were in communal showers in the locker rooms at West Point. Or maybe for you it was when you were in high school. But you adjust pretty quickly. Putting the men and women of the 101st together in the same quarters, organizing them by unit and squadron solved a lot of the problems we were having. And it did not create any new problems, they adjusted."

"I'll be blunt sir, the first time you see two soldiers in a screaming argument and they are both stark naked and one's dick is bouncing up and down and the other's tits are matching it it's pretty damn funny. It had the whole barracks rolling on the floor laughing at them and I had to break it up. I'll admit I almost lost it too when she called him a 'simpering cunt' and he called her a 'prick'. They both got eight hours extra duty but the next time I saw them they were in the enlisted rec room having a beer and talking about their respective girlfriend and boyfriend."

Arnold looked at her for a long time, "You think it will really work in the general case?"

"As long as the officers involved keep everyone on a level playing field it will work just fine. If you let someone get in charge who thinks the other sex is inferior then you can be a situation that will cause some real trouble. But that is no different than any other situation where you have an authoritarian structure and the wrong person gets in command."

Arnold looked at us for several minutes, "Well, we'll see how it works under the 101st's new commander."

Buffy thought for a moment, then spoke up, "And at the 143rd, Major Carson is using the same policies and her group is going to be much more balanced in terms of the male/female officer ratio. We had over 90% female officers while I was in command of the 101st. I talked to Hel… Major Carson about it when I saw her before we came back, I told her she was going to have to keep a careful eye on the male officers to insure no one started to abuse their authority. She said she was well aware of that and that she and her XO, Ben Franklin, were on top of it."

He thought about it for a minute and then started a new subject, "Colonel Summers, would you care to speculate why your female pilots are performing so much better than their male counterparts?"

It was a subject Buffy and I had discussed several times and I knew she had some opinions, I wasn't sure if she should try to share them with the General but he had seemed pretty reasonable so far this morning. I think the same thoughts were going through her mind because it was several seconds before she answered him.

"Sir, I think there are probably two reasons. First, the female pilots have been winnowed several times, first by getting into the army, then getting through the flight training, and then by volunteering for combat and going through our training."

"The male pilots go through the same training; except for the volunteering for combat - I don't see a difference."

"But the men are expected to do that, they've been brought up in a culture that supports that. Women doing that have been fighting that culture their whole life and they've been winning. I think they are tougher and know more about fighting, at the gut level, than the men. Also, because they are physically weaker than the men, on average, they have to concentrate more and work harder to succeed. But those that do are special; they are the best of the best."

"If it was completely open, exactly the same for both males and females, how would they stack up?"

Buffy thought for a moment, "You would, should, never get equal representation. I would guess about 80% male and 20% female, the mental attitude to make a good fighter pilot is much rarer among women than men. So is the physical strength to do the job although we concentrate a lot on that in our training, we can bring a lot of marginal women up to standards. But there are other factors that can side track a lot of women, cultural or social pressures so strong that they'll never break out and try. Family issues, getting pregnant and raising kids reduces the pool some, but I'm not sure of the effect of that since the mental attributes that make a fighter pilot are probably not real conducive to domesticity so that may have less of an impact than an initial analysis might indicate. But I would be surprised if you ever get to 20% female combat pilots."

General Arnold contemplated her for several moments, "You said there were two reasons?"

I knew Buffy's second reason, this one was going to be controversial, "Ah… well I think physiologically women have an advantage."

"What?!"

"Barb and I noticed it when we were training male fighter pilots at March field, and again in England when we were working up and flying with the 89th. I'm not sure exactly what it is, but I suspect it has something to do with the female anatomy." She paused for a moment, organizing her thoughts I suspected.

"What does?"

"Other things being equal women can take higher Gs and not black out." In combat in a fighter it often came down to who could turn their aircraft faster, and the faster you turned the aircraft the more 'gravity' your body was subjected to, in common terminology 'G force' or simply Gs. At the extremes you developed tunnel vision and finally blacked out. We had found we could take half a G to a full G more than most men before we reached the same level of impairment. So we could turn harder and not black out or lose as much vision, it translated into an enormous advantage.

Arnold looked at her skeptically, "You really think so?"

"We've tried it, Barb and I experimented with Ben Franklin at the 89th; he was in our squadron and a hell of a pilot."

"I've heard of him, he's the XO of the 143rd now."

Buffy nodded in agreement, "I had him and Barb pull the same high G maneuvers and note how much tunnel vision they developed. Barb was consistently a little over half a G higher when she got to the same extent of tunnel vision."

"And you?"

Buffy lied through her teeth, she never felt any impairment at any of the Gs we could pull in the aircraft we were flying, "Uh… closer to a full G."

"And you think this is physiological?"

"It's the only thing I can think of… if I had to guess I would suspect that the structural differences in a woman's abdomen enable her to restrict the blood pooling to her legs, lessoning the effect of the Gs."

General Arnold nodded, "We've got eggheads looking into the high G problems and they've been trying to come up with something to help. What's looking most promising are some kind of pants that squeeze the legs to prevent the wearer's blood from pooling in the legs. So you think women's bodies naturally do that better than men's?"

Buffy nodded in agreement, "Yes sir."

General Arnold looked closely at Buffy for several minutes, Buffy returned his look with a steady gaze of her own. Finally the General seemed to nod to himself and come to a decision, "So, Colonel Summers, do you wish to know what your future holds for you?"

A grin came to her lips, "Are you a seer?"

The question startled him and then a grin came to his lips, "No, but I am the one that writes your orders."

"Yes sir."

"I've been of two minds of what to do with you…"

"Alaska or the Antarctica?" Buffy quipped.

He chortled and then shook his head, "No… your formal education seems a bit spotty, at best."

"Yes sir, but I've done a lot of studying on my own. Not that most of it is terribly relevant these days but some of it has seemed to help."

He nodded, "I think you may be taxed some but I've come to the opinion that you'll be able to handle it." Buffy didn't respond, after a couple moments he went on, "You'll be doing a war bond tour for the rest of the year."

"Yeah, that will certainly be taxing…" a worried expression came on her face, "that is the end of this year not next year, isn't it sir?" I could even hear a little pleading in her voice.

"Yes Colonel, until the end of this year. After the first of the year you'll report to Leavenworth to attend the C&GS long course. It used to be a yearlong course but they've chopped it down, time wise, to ten months - although they supposedly haven't dropped any of the content, they just work you that much harder. It's a graduate level course, do you understand what that means and will you be able to hack it?"

"Yes sir, it means it's for people that already have their Bachelor's degree, and yes I think I can hack it."

He nodded and turned to me, "I'm afraid we're going to be breaking up you two."

"Yes sir."

"Do you want to know what you're going to be doing?"

I thought I knew, the war bond tour, but I wasn't going to put it in his mind if he had thought of something different, "Yes sir."

"You'll be doing a similar war bond tour to what Colonel Summers is doing but its duration is more up in the air, when it will end will depend on something not completely in my control. We are having those two Me-262s that you managed to bring home crated up and shipped back here. We aren't risking both on one ship so there is still some question exactly how long it will take. Once they are here they're going to the research facility we're putting together at Wright-Patterson. You'll be joining them."

"Sir, I'm not an engineer. I only completed a semester and a half before I had to quit school."

"You've had some training and have proven that you are one of the best maintenance officers in the field. I'm hoping with that and your combat experience you will be able to keep the eggheads from designing some super plane that we can't build or maintain. As both of you so succinctly put it last night, we're in deep ca-ca until we get a fighter that can deal with the Me-262 on an even foot, and hopefully better than an even foot."

"Yes sir. Why Wright-Patterson? Isn't that primarily a materiel command base?"

"They've got lots of space and they've also got some good technical people. In addition, some of the most advanced jet engine development we've got is just down the road at the General Electric Evendale plant. Their engineers are going to be spending a lot of time up at Wright-Patterson trying out those German engines and seeing if they can't figure out what's wrong with them."

Buffy looked over at me, "Lucky stiff!"

"What?!"

"You get to play with the toys… I have to sit in a classroom!"

I grinned at her then turned my attention back to the General, "I'll try to do as much as I can."

The Ides of March were on us and it was cold and miserable outside, raining softly but by night fall it was going to be freezing and the entire place was going to be coated with ice. I looked out the window at the disgusting weather and then turned back to the draftsman that was working on the plans for the plane we were trying to design. I had reported to Wright-Patterson the second week in July and found Buffy and my Me-262s half disassembled in a large hanger. I'd worked with the aircraft engineers analyzing the planes and with the GE engineers up from Evendale going over the engines. I'd also tried to work with the design group that was trying to design the first US jet fighter but that had been less successful. They were a tight group and didn't want to let me in.

I had several conversations with Brigadier General Howard who commanded the tech unit that was analyzing the Me-262s and to which I was officially assigned. He had finally given me permission to go ahead on my own, more to get me out of his hair than anything else I thought. I had a couple draftsmen assigned to work for me and two engineers from North American Aviation, the company that had come up with the P-51, were also spending their time working with us. They were supposed to be consulting with the design group but they had been pretty much frozen out also. The five of us got along well and we seemed to click and I thought what we were coming up with had some real promise, although a couple of problems had us stymied at the moment.

There was enough enthusiasm among the group that the guys didn't mind working late on a Saturday afternoon, long after everyone else had knocked off. The engineers and I had been hashing out one of the problems and I thought we might have a handle on it and the draftsmen said they would have the drawings updated by Monday. Then we could get the modeler to modify the scale model to match and then the wind tunnel would tell us if we had found the solution.

I'd said good-bye to the engineers; they were headed out of the building to go home and enjoy what remained of the weekend. I went the opposite direction down the main hallway and then turned down the side hall to my office. I saw a small form seated on the bench outside of it, "Buffy!" I yelled and broke into a run. She had reached her feet by the time I came up to her and picked her up in a tight hug, I swung her around a couple of times before I finally came to my senses and put the struggling Slayer down. "What the hell are you doing here?"

She looked up at me and grinned, "Thought it was time for a visit."

I was a bit skeptical, "Is everything all right?"

"Its fine, Barb, everything is fine."

"School going okay? Are you keeping up with your studies?"

She looked at me a little grimly, "Yes mother! I'm doing my homework and turning in all my papers on time."

I could feel myself start to redden a little, "Sorry…"

Her expression returned to a happy grin, "Can you get away from here or do I have to order you to knock it off for the weekend?"

I glanced at the folder full of papers that was still in my hand and thought briefly, there was nothing that I really had to get done before Monday and I would have some time then while the modeler made the necessary changes. "I can knock off; just let me put these away and lock up."

"Have you got transportation, something you can take off-base or should I keep the cab I've got?" Buffy asked.

"I've got a jeep; I can take it anywhere I need to go."

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute."

I watched her as she trotted down the hall and turned the opposite direction I'd come from, her cab must be outside the main entrance. I'd wondered how she'd found me but then figured she'd just checked with the MPs coming on the base, they'd give her both my quarters and office locations. But how the hell had she gotten here and what was she doing skipping school?

I shook my head and went back into my office. I put the file in my desk drawer and locked it and made a quick check of the other two desks, the ones the NAA engineers used, and nothing was out that shouldn't be. I got my leather flying jacket and cap and turned out the lights. I'd just locked the door when I heard footsteps coming back down the hall, I looked up to see Buffy turn the corner. I looked at her closer, she looked fresh scrubbed and her hair looked a little damp although that might have been from the rain outside.

"Buffy, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I told you, I thought it was time for a visit."

"But what about your school?"

She snorted, "Every once in a while even Leavenworth gives us a little time off for good behavior."

"Oh…"

She grinned at me, "We've reached our quarter break, that's what we call it. When the class was a year they gave the students a week after each quarter. One of the ways they shortened it was to take away those three weeks between quarters. We finished the first quarter exams on Friday and once the scores were posted if you weren't on academic probation you got a weekend pass."

"But how did you get here?"

"Oh, I needed to get some time in to keep my flying status current so I checked out a plane for a little cross-country flight and then the weather closed in and I had to land here. I notified them I would RON (Remain Over Night) here, the weather is supposed to break tomorrow afternoon."

I looked at her skeptically, "It's been raining all day, how did you get in?"

"There was a break in the clouds and I spotted the field, otherwise I would have had to stretch my fuel limits to get back to Kansas."

I looked at her skeptically, "Buffy, there's been a five hundred foot ceiling and solid overcast all day."

"Well… I thought I saw a break…"

"Jesus Buffy!"

"Hey! It's not like there are any mountains around here to run into! I let down slow through the overcast and if I hadn't gotten clear by the time I'd gotten down to 250 feet I would have just climbed out and gone back to Kansas!" I gave her as stern an expression as I could and she looked at me a little worried, "Barb, don't you want to see me?"

I relented and smiled at her, "Yes! It's great to see you!" I gave her another hug and she hugged me back, then I let go of her and stepped back and looked at her. After a moment a question came to me, "If you flew in what was with the cab?"

"Turned out I landed at Patterson, had to take a cab over here."

"So, where did you want to go?"

"I thought I'd take you out to dinner."

"Did you have anyplace special in mind?"

"I've heard the 'Top Hat' at the Biltmore is supposed to be pretty good."

I looked at her a little startled, "Pretty expensive!"

She shook her head, "I've been cooped up in the middle of Kansas for the last three months; money is not a problem. Besides, money shouldn't be a problem for either of us if we have a little bit of sense."

She was right but I hadn't broken out of the mindset I'd grown up with during the Depression. My family had never been poor, we always had the ranch outside of Sunnydale where I grew up, but there had been frugal times. Now the ranch was doing very well with the war going on and had been turning a healthy profit even after having to pay a manager to run it. Buffy had hardly touched the money Whistler gave her when she'd woken up in my orchard, over $30,000, and when we'd joined up she'd put the money in some investment accounts and it had grown substantially. I knew because when she created the accounts she'd put my name on them along with hers. I got the quarterly statements because I handled things like that, she'd just chuck them without ever looking at them. I'd tried to argue with her about putting my name on her accounts but she shut me down, since I'd put her name on the ranch a couple days before I didn't really have a leg to stand on.

I didn't think about it a lot but it brought to mind that our lives were deeply intertwined. We'd both named the other the beneficiary of our military life insurance policies, and we gave each other everything in our wills, neither of us had any other family. For all practical purposes our lives were as intertwined as a married couple, and knowing Buffy and her desires that was just the way she wanted our lives. As I thought about it I realized that that was the way I wanted them also. Whatever else happened I couldn't imagine, and certainly didn't want, a life without the little blonde in it.

"Earth to Barb, Earth to Barb - are you receiving?"

With a jerk I realized I'd been standing there daydreaming for quite some time, "Sorry… got lost in my thoughts."

Buffy nodded, "Top Hat okay with you? And are we dressed up enough?"

We were both in what I considered 'office' daily uniform, khaki slacks, shirt, and tie but in addition to our rank insignia on our collar points we had our ribbons and wings on our shirts. Our leather jackets had our rank insignia on the epaulettes and our wings and names embossed on a leather patch over our left breast, "Yeah, I think so. I've heard they've slacked off on the coat and tie requirements for service men."

"Well let's hope they've extended it to women too."

That brought a chuckle from me and I shook my head, "I need to stop by and let a couple guys know I'm heading out."

"Lead on."

We walked down the hall and turned down the main corridor toward the drafting room. I'd been trying to get a larger office, one big enough for all five of us but hadn't succeeded. As it was when they were done they'd have to bring all the drawings back to my office and secure them in the special plan's cabinet in the office. I'd given Joe, the senior draftsman, a set of keys so I didn't have to stay around for them but I wanted to make sure they were set and wouldn't need anything from me.

As we were nearing the door it opened and Joe started out, coming to an abrupt halt when he saw us, he looked worried, "Colonel, I think we might have a problem with that latest fix."

I waved him back into the room, "Let's take a look at it."

As I walked in I saw Charlie was at Joe's drafting table, studying the plans on it. He looked up as we came back in, "Yeah, Joe, it's a problem…" He broke off as he saw Buffy coming in after me.

Joe was in his early thirties, tall and lean, a committed bachelor with an eye always out for the ladies. Charlie was just out of high school, bright but very shy and Joe was always needling him about his lack of a girlfriend. A couple times so severely that I'd had to pull him aside and tell him to knock it off. They were both civilians, Joe had a bad knee and was exempt from military service. I'd gotten Charlie a draft exemption, over his protest but I told him he was too valuable to go off and fight. I'd had to warn him that if he went off and enlisted I would just have him back under orders within a week and he'd be doing the same thing at a lot lower pay. I don't know if I'd actually be able to do it but I would have given it one hell of a try.

Joe noticed Buffy but I don't think he really looked at her, certainly not enough to recognize her or realize she was a bird Colonel, "Hey, Charlie, here's a nice girl for you! Maybe a little young but if you ask her dad real nice he'd probably let you take her out, chaperoned of course!"

Charlie blushed bright red and looked at his feet, I could see Buffy staring at him in surprise, before things got too far out of hand I spoke up, "Joe, Charlie, I'd like you to meet my old CO, _Colonel_ Buffy Summers." I stressed the 'Colonel' and Joe's eyes went wide in shock. I couldn't tell what Charlie thought, he was still looking at the floor.

Buffy stepped up to Joe and held out her hand, slowly he took it as she grinned up at him, "It's been a long time since I've had a chaperone, and longer since I've needed one."

"Uh… Sorry, ma'am"

Buffy turned her head to me, "Haven't you trained them?"

I shook my head, "I haven't even tried."

She turned back to him, "It's Buffy, or if you have to be all formal you can throw in a 'sir' now and then… but I'm not an old lady… some would say I'm not a lady at all."

Joe nodded his head silently as she let go of his hand and she stepped over to Charlie, he was looking up enough to see her although this head was still mostly bowed. When she held out her hand he took it, "Charlie, I don't bite."

He raised his head some more and looked at her, still blushing slightly, "Yes ma… sir, It's an honor to meet you."

I turned back to Joe, "What's the problem?"

He walked around to his drafting table and I followed behind, Charlie moved to the side a little to make room for us, "See here, where we've added the flap extension, I think there is going to be too much pressure when the flaps are fully extended for these to hold."

The problem we'd been trying to solve was a low speed stability issue. The aircraft we were designing was using a laminar flow wing like the P-51 but it had been swept back 15 degrees for better high speed performance. But it was turning out the configuration was resulting in a bad stability issue at landing speeds, at least in wind tunnel tests. The solution we'd come up with was based on modifying the flaps so that as they extended not only did they increase lift but they increased the wing area between the fuselage and the wing. We thought that should solve the stability issue but now that Joe had pointed it out I realized that the entire flap structure was going to be too weak. "Shit!"

Buffy had walked around and was looking at the drawings on Joe's table, you couldn't tell a whole lot looking at the detailed drawing of the flap area but on the top of his table he had a small drawing of the airplane we were designing. She had a slim, slightly triangular fuselage and narrow wings mounted low on the fuselage where it was widest. The wings were set well back, almost half the fuselage's length projected in front of the wings, the wings swept back and narrowed slightly toward the tips. Just in front of the wings was the cockpit covered with a bubble canopy that was a copy of the P-51s.

The strangest thing about her, compared to contemporary aircraft, was the placement of the engines - they were in nacelles mounted on either side of the aft fuselage between the wings and the tail. We didn't want the engines in the wing or hanging from it for two reasons, we didn't want the airflow around the wing disturbed by them and we didn't want the weight out on the wings. She had tricycle landing gear and the main gear was fairly widely spread, just outboard of them we had two hard points for ordnance or drop tanks. If we had mounted the engines on the wing that's where they would have had to go which meant we would only have the fuselage centerline hard point for external stores.

We'd thought about putting the engines in the wing roots but felt that would limit cooling and also take up space for fuel tanks. Fuel was a major concern, we knew she had to have long legs to fight in Europe and at the same time the fuel consumption figures we were getting from GE weren't very good; having the engines outside of the fuselage gave us more room for fuel tanks. Putting them in external nacelles also meant simplified access to them for maintenance and swapping out an engine would be almost trivial. Another advantage was that they were further from the ground, she sat level on the tricycle landing gear and with the engines up on the fuselage it lessened the chances of them picking up debris during take-offs and landings.

Mounting them on the fuselage had necessitated the other major difference; the horizontal stabilizer with its two elevators was mounted on top of the rudder, forming a 'T'. This kept the stabilizer and elevators out of the hot exhaust of the engines and away from the turbulence around the engines and coming off the wing. Wind tunnel tests were also showing us that we could use a smaller stabilizer than expected because it was in clean air, which meant she had a lower drag co-efficient.

Buffy whistled softly, "She's a pretty plane, but what are you guys doing?"

I looked at her and grinned, "Designing her."

"Designing her?!"

"Yeah, we're getting frozen out by regular design team so we thought we'd try it on our…"

I was interrupted by Charlie, "Wait a minute!" He grabbed a blank sheet of paper and quickly sketched a complex shape, "Colonel, I know you want to keep machined parts to a minimum, but if we machine a part like this out of round bar stock and fit it in here," he pointed with his pencil, "and have a corresponding piece on the flap slides like this…"

I watched as he added another smooth shape to his sketch, then tried to imagine the movement that was required of the flaps and it all fit together, Joe and I started nodding at the same time, "Yeah," Joe said, "machined out of a solid billet of aluminum, 2014 or maybe 2024, and it will be plenty strong enough. Make it just a little wider and we'd be able to get rid of this frame here and probably end up lighter overall."

I nodded in agreement, "Great idea, Charlie! Why don't you guys knock off and we'll finish up on Monday."

Joe shook his head, "No, skipper… We'll stay and get the drawings changed."

"Joe, it won't make a difference to the modeler."

"Yeah, but I want it done for the engineers to check Monday morning."

Charlie spoke up, "I'll do the detail drawing on the part; Joe can do the airframe modifications… It won't take us that long skipper."

"Okay, thanks," I dug into my pocket and got out my billfold and got out a twenty and put it on Joe's drafting table, "Dinner and drinks are on me tonight… thanks for the work and have fun."

Charlie grinned up at me, "Thanks, Colonel."

Buffy looked at the two men, "I see why she likes working with you guys." She looked back at the drawing on the top of his table, "She's a pretty little thing, looks like she'll fly well."

Joe grinned, "Just like you, ma… sir."

Buffy looked at him for a moment in incomprehension and then her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide with surprise, I couldn't completely suppress the laugh that came out and her expression hardened as she looked at me and then back to Joe. After a moment it softened again and she smiled at him, "Thank you… I'd take you for a ride but I'm not sure you'd survive…"

Now it was Joe's turn to look at her in shock, before it could escalate I interrupted, "Okay, you two, you could exchange barbs all night but I thought we had things to do. Buffy and I are going to head out, I'll be in tomorrow afternoon so if anything comes up leave a note on my desk. Buffy?"

She nodded, "Nice meeting you two."

"Night guys," I said as I led Buffy out of the office followed by Joe and Charlie's good-byes. We headed down the corridor toward the outer door. When I opened the door I could feel the chill in the air, it was almost dark and still raining lightly; everything glistened in the fading light. We stepped out onto the small porch and zipped up our flight jackets against the cold. "Buffy, are you sure you want to be heading off base? It's going to get awfully icy out there tonight."

"That's no problem; I've got a room, actually a suite, for us at the Biltmore."

I looked at her, "Extravagant aren't we?"

"Just want to treat my girl right."

"I'm not your…" I stopped myself; with Buffy gone I'd avoided the issue of our relationship. I still wasn't ready to make any decision, certainly not on a porch in the middle of an Army airfield on a cold and rainy night. Instead I decided to try to keep it light, "Are you trying to seduce me?"

She glanced around, the area was deserted and she turned back to me, "I'm always… I always want you, Barb. Tonight I was hoping that minimally I'd get to sleep with you… in the literal and not the colloquial sense, beyond that it is up to you. It's always up to you."

I looked down at her, "I'm sorry I'm being such a pill about this… maybe you should find someone else.

"Barb!"

"Okay… Yes, I'll sleep with you tonight." I left it at that, not clarifying what it meant because I wasn't sure what I meant, "Assuming, of course, that we survive the drive to the hotel."

"I'll drive!"

I looked at Buffy, "I said we needed to survive the drive to the hotel."

"Hey, I'm a good driver!"

I nodded in agreement; she was in all actuality a very good driver. Unfortunately her reactions were so fast that she was sometimes too much for the vehicle or the other drivers, I shook my head no, "Buffy, I told you I have a jeep."

She nodded reluctantly, she and jeeps did not get along very well, "Okay, you drive."

I tugged my cap down tight so it wouldn't come off and then headed out at a quick jog to a jeep parked half a dozen slots down the side of the building. All the other vehicles except for Joe's old Model T on the other side of my jeep were long gone. I opened the canvas door and climbed in; Buffy had run around the jeep and gotten in before I'd gotten halfway through the door, damned Slayer speed! It was cold and damp and the seats were like ice. I got out the keys and started the jeep, at least she started right away but I knew it was going to be a long time before the heater started producing anything but cold air.

Half an hour later when we pulled up to the front of the Biltmore the heat was just starting to remove some of the chill from inside the jeep. It was full dark and for the last five minutes I'd driven slowly as patches of ice had started to form on the streets, I was glad I wasn't going to have to go back out again tonight. I ignored regulations and gave the keys to the valet; if someone wanted to steal an Army jeep from the valet parking lot I figured they needed it more than I did. The valet wasn't much impressed with the ride I was giving him so I figured it was safe enough.

Buffy and I went through the doors and took a couple of steps into the lobby to get away from the draft and then we stopped and just enjoyed the warmth. "Barb, I think I understand why you spend all your time working. This is even more miserable than Kansas and I thought that was as bad as it could get!"

"But think, Buffy, in another couple of months it will be 90 degrees with 90 percent humidity, we'll be wishing we had this nice weather back."

She snorted and shook her head, "Why the hell did we ever leave California?"

"Buffy, it's all your fault!"

"Hey! If I remember correctly it was your idea to go and join the Army!"

"But it was your idea to take those planes to England. If we'd just stayed with ferrying we'd still be in LA."

"Yeah, but think of all the fun things we would have missed!"

I smiled at her, "Do you really want me to count all those fun things or do you want to go eat."

She looked at me with a serious expression, "You could get out anytime you wanted, Barb."

I shook my head, "I don't want out, I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

She smiled at me, "Okay… let's go eat."

We went across the lobby to the entrance to the restaurant, the maître de looked at us a little askance in our leather flying jackets but when Buffy pointedly looked at a couple of male officers similarly attired at a table in the dining room he seated us without anything more than a snooty look. The waiter on the other hand was quite eager to wait on us; considering the place was almost deserted he appreciated any business he got. Buffy ordered a bottle of wine which he went and got and then we put in our orders, a huge porterhouse for her and the small prime rib for me.

When we were alone Buffy spoke up, "So what's the story with you designing a new plane?"

"The design group I am supposed to be working with doesn't seem to have much use for my input; I've sort of given up trying to talk to those pricks."

Buffy's eyes went wide, and then she grinned, "Language, Barb!"

"I know very well what language I'm using, and it is accurate."

Buffy nodded, "Yeah, there are a lot of them around."

I nodded in agreement, "But my boss is pretty cool. We ran out of things to do with the Me-262s pretty quick, everyone grabbed the parts they were interested in and went back to their labs and disappeared. I went to him when I got frozen out and asked for a couple draftsmen so we could work on documenting the 262s, but after a couple days I realized that wouldn't accomplish much. Most of that information was already in the maintenance manual you got."

"So you started this project just to pass the time?"

"Not really, the design engineers are all Douglas; they're freezing everyone else out. North American sent a couple engineers but they weren't able to get any further than I was so we decided to try working together. It's been working pretty well so far."

"Any chance of getting her built?"

"If we can come up with a viable design North American is going to do a prototype on spec, they haven't been able to get any backing from the Army, sort of like they did the P-51. The General in charge of the design team, a two star named Pallett, is ex-Douglas, I think he's trying to keep it all tied up for his friends. We've got two major problems left; hopefully one if what we just came up with solves the problem we'd been working on. The other problem won't stop the prototype but I don't really want to go forward without it solved.

"What is it?"

"Armament," I replied.

"Armament?" Buffy asked, her eyebrows raising in curiosity.

The waiter came to our table at that moment and delivered our salads. We spent a couple minutes taking the edge of our hunger, when we were down to chasing the last lettuce leaves Buffy spoke up, "You were saying?"

It took a moment to get back to where we had left off, "Oh… we're having a tough time coming up with an effective set of guns. Initially I thought I'd just use the arrangement we used in the P-38s, a 20mm cannon and four 50s. But the problem is with the speed and range we're trying to get all those holes in the nose really create a lot of turbulence, the wind tunnel tests are showing about 30 knots and 10% increase in aerodynamic loss - way too much as far as I'm concerned."

"The wings are two thin and we don't want the weight out there, same reasoning as the engines. We've tried gun covers, but ones that would reseal after shooting are tough to make and I'd hate to see the effect if they didn't clear, the mess that would make would really screw up the aerodynamics. You'd be under halfway out by your fuel consumption and suddenly you'd lose so much efficiency you couldn't get back."

"What about cutting down on the number of guns?"

"We tried it, we'd have to go down to two to get the numbers in an acceptable range and that's just too little fire power. We've sort of back-shelved the problem until the ones stopping us from flying were solved but now that we've got them taken care of, I hope, we're going to have to figure something out or just take the hit. If we want to have any chance bucking the bureaucracy we're going to have to have a very good and complete package."

"Well, good luck…"

The waiter delivered our dinners and we ate in a comfortable silence until most of the food was gone. As usual Buffy's food had disappeared much quicker than mine. When she was down to trying to find the last nibbles of her steak on the bone I stopped eating long enough to ask, "So, how's school going?"

She looked across the table at me as I continued to eat, "Okay… Actually most of it is pretty interesting." She glanced around the room, no one was near us, then spoke more softly than normal, "I doubt if I'd have been able to hack it without Slayer stamina, but I'm getting a pretty good handle on it and it's starting to come easier."

"Missing some of the background?"

She nodded, "And having to double and triple check things to make sure I don't include something from my time."

I hadn't thought of that, she could get into real trouble if she inadvertently put down something that hadn't occurred yet, "Be careful, Buffy."

"Oh, don't worry, I am."

I finished the last of my dinner and took a sip of wine, "So how are you doing."

She grinned a little sheepishly and then held up two fingers, it took me a moment to realize what she was implying, "You're second in your class?!"

"Yeah, there's one guy who's a real egg-head and he nudged me out by .1 for the first quarter, but I'll get him before long… he doesn't have the background to keep it up as we get in deeper."

I smiled at her to make sure she didn't take it the wrong way, "And you do?"

"Yeah, I think I do. Between running the 101st and all the research I did under Giles I think I do."

"You can relate all that to what you're doing now?"

"Not directly, but it's more about figuring out the answer to the problem than looking up the answer. There was a lot of that in the first quarter but I think they'll be less looking up existing answers and more coming up with the answer, and I don't think he's going to beat me at that. Actually, I'm more worried about a couple guys further down the list in that respect."

The waiter was back at our table, "Dessert, ladies?"

I shook my head, "I'm not going to be able to eat at all tomorrow or I won't be able to get into my uniform."

Buffy shook her head, "I saw some ice cream sundaes on the menu?" He nodded, "chocolate on chocolate, please."

He looked at her in confusion, "What was that?"

"Chocolate syrup on chocolate ice cream, man!"

Now he looked at her in shock, I decided to help him, "She claims she has a sense of taste but no one has ever found any evidence of it."

"Yes ma'am," he said as he looked between the two of us.

"You don't have to eat it, just serve it." Buffy said as she glared at me, "besides, it keeps the mooches from stealing my ice cream."

Buffy talked some more about her school while she ate her dessert and then she signed the check and we headed up to her, our, room.

Hours later I came slowly awake, I was lying on my back on the bed, just a sheet covered us but I wasn't cold, I had a Slayer blanket over me. Buffy was lying on me, one of her legs between mine and her cheek resting on my upper chest. One of her arms was under me, her hand pressed flat against my back. Her other hand was cupping my left breast and her fingers were softly brushing my skin. My body was still spent from what Buffy had done to me, but a shudder of pleasure went through me when her finger tips brushed over my nipple. That must have been what had woken me but now my mind was awake.

"Sorry, Barb" Buffy's voice came softly out of the dark.

"Sorry for what?"

"For waking you up, I should have left you alone… it's just too tempting."

"Buffy, I'm happy to be awake. I want to spend as much time with you as I possibly can… I can sleep some other time."

Her fingers continued to massage my breast, I couldn't tell if I liked it or not, my body didn't seem to be responding to her. That didn't completely surprise me, it had already responded more times than I could count and at levels I didn't believe possible. "Buffy, I think you may have exhausted me, at least for a while."

Her fingers stopped moving and she cupped my breast in her hand, then snuggled against me, "Sorry, Barb."

"Quit saying you're sorry or I'll begin to think that what we've been doing for half the night is wrong!"

"Sor… I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Buffy, you made me feel the most incredible things I've ever felt. I know how much you love me, and I love you Buffy. More than I ever knew was possible. I just don't know how this is all going to work out."

"We'll find a way, Barb."

"I hope so… Buffy there are so many things that you can do… I don't want you to lose the opportunity to do them. There are also things I want to do… I'd hate to have to give them up. But, for me, if it came down to it I'd give up everything as long as we were together."

"Barb, we'll find a way for both of us to do what we want and we'll be together. We'll work something out. For now we'll take the times we can…"

I kissed the top of her head and then lay my head back down and let my mind drift while I enjoyed the feel of her against me. Time passed, five minutes or half an hour I wasn't really sure, when Buffy spoke again, "Gatling."

"What?"

"Gatling gun."

"Buffy you have me completely lost." She squirmed around and then she wasn't laying on top of me anymore, "Hey! Where's my blanket think she's going?"

Buffy chuckled and then the bedside light came on, I shut my eyes to block out the brightness. There was some more thrashing around and then I felt Buffy climb back on top of me, "You can open your eyes now."

I opened my eyes, a dim light filled the room, I glanced over and saw she'd thrown a pillow case over the light which reduced it to a more comfortable level. I turned my attention back to Buffy, she was lying on me; her chin held up in her hands, "You've heard of a Gatling gun."

"Yes, I've heard of a Gatling gun." One of the earliest types of machine guns, the six barreled Gatling gun had been invented sometime around the Civil War and had been used by the Army up until the turn of the century when more modern machine guns replaced it.

"That's what you should use in your plane."

"A Gatling gun?"

"A powered Gatling gun, you could get an incredible rate of fire out of one gun, and then you'd only need one gun port."

"Where the hell…" then I realized this must be something from the future.

"I don't know a whole lot about it but we've been studying a lot of the battles of the Civil War and the Indian wars. There were lots of debates and issues about the use and deployment of the new weapons and the Gatling gun was one of them. I did a paper on the conflict between Artillery and Infantry, Artillery wanted them classified as artillery pieces, but that kept them too far back from the front lines to be really useful as far as Infantry was concerned."

"Okay… and this is relevant how?"

"We've talked some about 'Top Gun'."

"Yes, I know you're in love with Tom Cruise."

Buffy wiggled against me, "I'm not in love with Tom Cruise. I'd just dreamed about riding his bone a lot."

"Buffy!?" I squeaked.

"That was past tense, Barb, now I dream about riding your fingers."

"Jesus, Buffy! TMI!"

"You're concerned about me talking about riding some guy's bone after all we've done tonight? Or is it that I dream about you?"

It wasn't a subject I really wanted to discuss, "No! I just don't… Let's get back to whatever point you were trying to make, not who you'd like to make love with."

"Oh, okay. So… back to 'Top Gun', I never realized it at the time but now that I'm a little more knowledgeable, I'm sure the jet fighters of my time were armed with Gatling guns. I remember in the movie there were some shots of them firing, it sounded like ripping cloth, not like a 50 or a 20mm cannon. I've tried to remember but it wasn't something I paid a lot of attention to but I think there was something about 6000 rounds per minute, and I think it may have been 20mm."

I thought about it for a minute, the cannon in our P-38s had been rated at 700 RPM, 6000 RPM would be better than having nine individual cannons, that was heavier armament than any fighter flying, even the 262s four 30mm couldn't throw that weight of projectiles. "Buffy, do you really think we could build a gun like that?"

She thought for a few moments, "I don't know… but I think they were around since the 60s, so I don't think it's a technical issue."

We lay together in our own thoughts for a couple of minutes; then her hands started to caress my breast again. I filed my ideas and concentrated on her, stroking her body, soon she slid up and her lips found mine. Neither of us got much sleep.


	13. Chapter 13: The Pinto

Author's Note: When I posted this story on TTH I received a review from Drake who was kind enough to point out that the description was very close to the Boeing 'Skyfox' and provided a link to some pictures of it. Although I hadn't seen or heard of the Skyfox before I wrote this, looking at the pictures it is close to what I had in mind. The only big difference is the Skyfox has its stabilizer mounted halfway up the rudder like the Me-262 rather than at the top of the rudder. ( forum/m_8497065/anchors_8503664/mpage_2/key_ #8503664).

* * *

The canopy was open but it didn't help a lot, the muggy air sat like an oppressive blanket over me and the sun blazed down increasing the temperature in the cockpit so it must have been well above a 100. Late August in Ohio in the middle of a heat wave was not a place I enjoyed. Taxiing up and down the runway in the blazing sun was almost unbearable. As much as I liked playing with the Pinto this was a little too much. Pinto was the name North American Aviation had come up with for our jet prototype; they were continuing their horse theme a la the 'Mustang' and someone at North American had come up with 'Pinto' - a plains Indian war horse.

She was a sweet plane, I couldn't wait until we decided she was ready to fly and I could take her up. The taxi tests had gone great, the one problem we'd found had a simple fix and she had performed flawlessly since then. The GE turbines had also performed well, a lot more reliably than I had expected.

The last of the breeze disappeared as she slowed almost to a stop; I turned off the runway and onto the taxiway and headed back to our hanger. A touch of throttle and she increased her pace, she seemed to slip along without any assistance. She was an amazingly clean plane, made more so by the lack of propellers stirring up the air and creating noise and vibration. She rolled along with only a low level vibration from the engines and a slight jarring as she crossed the expansion cracks in the concrete.

As I neared the hanger Chris, the lead NA engineer, came out and stood in the small patch of shade at the side of the hanger. As I approached the open door to take her inside he started waving his hands, he turned his head and called over his shoulder. A moment later a couple ground crewmen came out, one with wands and he started directing me to a parking spot to the side of the hanger.

I followed his directions and brought the Pinto up to him and then swung her so she was facing out, then set the brakes and started shutting her down. I wondered why they wanted her outside, must be something going on in the hanger. Joe and Harry, another NA engineer, came up in the jeep they'd been following me with and parked beside Chris. They talked for a moment and then the three of them started walking toward me. The ground crew rolled a maintenance platform up to the side of the fuselage under the cockpit; I finished disconnecting myself and climbed out onto it. We had plans drawn up for a light ladder that would attach to a fitting just below the cockpit but no one had gotten around to actually building one yet.

As my feet hit the ground I staggered a little, Chris handed me an almost cool bottle of coke and I drank it down. My flying coveralls were almost completely soaked; I pulled the zipper down to my waist to try to get some relief. If I'd been back at the 101st I'd have dropped them completely, I had a bra and panties on after all, but then if I'd been back at the 101st I doubt it would have been this hot and muggy. Standing around the Wright-Patterson airfield in my underwear was a little too extreme for Dayton.

I finished the coke, the three of them hadn't said a word but I didn't like the look on their faces, "All right, what the hell is going on? Why are we out here instead of in the hanger where there is at least a little shade?"

They glanced at each other; Chris finally spoke up, "General Pallet's aide stopped by with some orders."

I didn't like the sound of that, "What orders?"

"As soon as the Pinto comes in the hanger they're to pull her engines."

"What?!"

"He said they needed them as 'spares'."

"What the hell is going on?"

Joe spoke up, "I got the son of a bitch talking, big wigs are coming in a couple of days to see the 'official' prototype perform and they want to make sure they have spare engines."

"They've already got three or four!" I said in shock.

"Yeah, but you know how that pig burns out engines," Harry commented.

Chris snorted, "They couldn't change an engine fast enough to matter. He didn't say it but what he really meant was they wanted to make sure we weren't around."

I tried to reign in my anger, we had gotten no support from Pallet and North American had gone out on a limb to build the prototype I was standing next to. Even as flush as they were with profits from the P-51 they were going to be hurting if they couldn't get a piece of the jet market. General Pallet and his gang had no interest in what we were doing and I'd gotten the feeling that he was hostile to us. The fact he was a former Douglas exec and Douglas was the primary contractor on the 'official' prototype might have something to do with it.

We'd managed to get some jet engines from GE, mostly because they wanted them tested for real as much as anything I suspected. There was also the fact that I was in the good graces of a couple of their engineers. One was one of the jet engine engineers that I'd worked with quite a bit when we started analyzing the 262s; he introduced me to his brother who was in their weapons division. I'd talked to him about Buffy's idea of a Gatling gun and he about had babies he loved the idea so much. He spent ten minutes walking around my office with me and his brother watching him as he slammed his head with the heel of his hand mumbling 'how could I be so dumb!' Then he sat down and sketched out a design in about twenty minutes, the three of us worked on it for another couple of hours to make sure it would fit our needs and then he disappeared.

A month later I got a preliminary specification for the gun giving weight, dimensional specifications and mounting requirements so we could make sure our design would take it. We also had to provide them with the specifications for the magazine and feed configuration we wanted to use. It had blown my mind when two weeks later he sent back the drawings for the entire installation, including the weight specifications with a full ammo load of 3500 rounds. We had to do some redesign to handle the weight distribution but it had all worked.

The 20mm magazine was in three sections, the sections farther aft feeding into the section in front of it. The sections fit neatly inside the fuselage, the forward most one just behind the gun and the feed led from it directly into the gun. It looked like a very clean installation that wouldn't jam easily. We talked with him and he made some minor changes so that the second and third sections of the magazine could be easily removed. When all three sections were installed and full of 20mm ammo the installation weighed over 2000 pounds; that would take up almost half of our planned ordinance load. With the removable magazine sections if heavier bombs or other ordinance was desired the gun ammunition could be cut down, about 2200 rounds with two sections and about 1000 rounds with a single magazine section.

We still hadn't gotten anything real, that was still a month or two away, but I had gone down to their test facility and saw a test firing of the new cannon, it was amazing. They had only gotten it up to about 4000 rounds per minute but it just tore through the back drop, too many rounds hit too quickly and the guy was slow getting off the trigger.

We had a dummy installation in the Pinto, but it matched the weight distribution and she was still nicely balanced. The gun and magazine installation was really very compact, it turned out we had room for another fuel tank between it and the cockpit that could be used when only a partial ammo load was used. With a full ammo load the tank needed to be empty or she had too much weight forward.

"Those fucking assholes!" I knew I was turning red with rage, "I'm going to go talk to General Howard, see if we can't get them to keep their dirty little hands off our baby!"

Chris spoke up, "Won't work, General Howard is at some conference in DC for the next couple of days; I don't know when he'll get back."

"Shit! Well, maybe he'll be able to talk some sense into them when he gets back." But what were we going to do until then?

"Colonel," Joe said, I nodded for him to go on, "Our ground crew guys are at lunch, let's keep her out here until they get back and then we can at least have them pull the engines. I don't trust those other guys; they might have an 'accident' while they're pulling the engines."

I thought for a minute, we'd been taxi testing the Pinto for the last three days, we had a couple more days scheduled before we'd try to take her up for real. I'd completed the day's tests but there wasn't really any reason not to continue with the next day's testing, nothing had gone wrong and everything was working. I looked at the guys standing around me, "Can you go over her - do all the checks you were going to do this afternoon?"

"Sure, won't take but half an hour or so."

I nodded, "Good, once you're done refuel her and I'll do the next set of tests."

An hour later I was taxiing back down the runway, in front of me a flight of P-51s were running up their engines at the end of the taxiway; I could hear their chatter on the radio as they prepared to take off. They were going up to work on their proficiency, i.e. they were going up to play. I wished I could go with them, it was even hotter and muggier and I wasn't at all sure I'd be able to last through the entire test sequence. Between the heat and stewing over what that idiot Pallet was doing to us and I was about to throw in the towel.

I watched as the first pair of P-51s barreled down the runway and lifted off into the blue sky, followed a couple of minutes later by the next pair. I checked with the tower, nothing was on approach, so I could use the runway for the next taxi test, a high speed run to the point where the wheels were about to break loose, then slam on the brakes and see how fast she'd stop and if anything broke.

It was a test that I knew she was going to ace, like the rest of the tests that were scheduled for today. One of the engineers over at NA had heard about a new kind of brake the auto industry was developing - he called them 'disk' brakes. Instead of the normal drum with the brake shoes inside and pressing out, this brake used a big still platter, sort of like a dinner plate, attached to the wheel. The brake pads themselves were in 'U' shaped fittings mounted on the wheel strut, and thus stationary, with the pads on either side of the disk. When you applied the brake the pads squeezed the disk between them slowing it down. The damn things stopped her like she'd run into a brick wall, and they didn't fade when they got hot, if anything they got more powerful. Initially they were a little heavier than drum brakes would have been but Charlie had solved that problem by having holes drilled through the disk. They were now lighter than a normal drum brake would have been and they stopped just as fast and stayed cooler.

I turned onto the runway and eased on the brake, she stopped smoothly and I locked the brakes while I ran up the engines and then throttled back down. They were still a little slow responding to the throttle but they were better than the Me-262's turbines.

I looked down the long runway and then up at the blue sky, I could still make out the P-51s climbing away, specks high in the sky. We were going to get royally screwed and it wasn't going to be at all pleasurable. Damn that asshole Pallet! I sat there for a moment longer watching the P-51s disappear and wishing I was up there with them. Finally I came to a decision, if I was going to get screwed I'd at least have some fun first. Besides, if they canned me I could go and live closer to Buffy.

"Pinto 1, Wright Tower." I called over the radioed.

"Go ahead Pinto 1; you're clear for taxi test."

"Negative Wright Tower, beginning take-off roll." I wondered if the guys were listening to the monitor in the hanger or if they were busy with other stuff.

"Pinto 1? Repeat last broadcast!"

I released the brakes and slid the throttles forward; she started slowly and then the acceleration increased as the turbines spun up, "Pinto 1, Wright tower, commencing take-off."

"Pinto 1?"

She was building speed faster than I'd ever seen; I had the throttles all the way to the stops. As I rolled down the runway I glanced over at the hanger, half a dozen guys were streaming out, I didn't have time to take a good look but they were pumping their fists in the air for me or at me, I couldn't tell which. I felt her get light on her wheels and held her steady for another couple of seconds and then eased back gently on the stick, "Come on baby - let's go flying."

She seemed to respond to my words and lifted cleanly off the runway, she was steady as a rock as we climbed away. I pushed the gear levers forward and heard the whines and thunks as they tucked up and the gear doors closed. I eased the flaps up and she was accelerating even faster as she cleaned up. I pulled the stick back gently lifting her nose and she streaked upward, slowing hardly at all as the climb steepened.

I reached ten thousand feet faster than I'd ever done it before. I started easing her through some gentle maneuvers and she responded with a precision that amazed me, in a lot of ways she reminded me of the Spitfire, her controls were light but crisp and she felt as solid as a rock. She wasn't as quick to slow down when I eased off the power but she was quicker when I moved the throttles forward, she accelerated faster than any piston plane I'd ever flown.

I was lost in experimenting with her, forgetting she'd never been flown before. I increased the speed and tightness of the banks and then tried a series of rolls, she snapped around at an incredible rate. I stopped her after the fourth roll and she was level and steady with no tendency to continue the roll. I checked my fuel and realized it was still almost full, I'd have to check that again when the tanks were closer to empty. We had baffles in the tanks to cut down on fuel sloshing but I was beginning to wonder if they'd be adequate given her rate of roll.

I put her into a series of loops and she pulled through them without losing speed or altitude, she had so much power that I could stand her on her tail and she would just climb. As I passed through fifteen thousand feet I remembered I didn't have any oxygen, I didn't know how much higher she would have gone but I couldn't risk anything higher. I nosed her over and dove back to a safer altitude and watched in amazement as the airspeed indicator neared 600 Knots.

I tried another series of maneuvers and she just breezed through them, the G forces I was experiencing in some of the maneuvers caused my vision to narrow, tunnel vision was the term we usually used. I eased up a little and just flew her, she was such a delight. A thought went through my mind; I wondered what Buffy would be able to do with her.

I heard some chatter in my earphones and realized it was the P-51 jocks I'd seen take off ahead of me. By the yells and swearing and shouts of triumph I knew they were dogfighting. I looked around and saw a glint far to my left and turned toward it, in a very short time I could see the P-51s swirling around the sky in front of me. I pulled to the side and watched them for a minute and their fight came to an end, two of the planes were diving away, twisting and turning, but the other two were locked on their tails and weren't being shaken off, then I heard someone call out, "Uncle!"

The four planes slowed and started climbing, the front two forming one element and the other two moving into formation with them. I turned toward them and shoved the throttles forward, I lined up on the lead aircraft and just as I reached him I broadcast, "BANG! Your dead!" and pulled her up in a steep climb.

"What the hell was that?"

"Where'd she come from?"

"Hey guys," I radioed back, "Want to play some?" I turned back toward them and throttled down a little as I neared them, pulling onto a course parallel to theirs and thousand yards or so off their wings. She slowed down as I drifted up even to them but I could tell she didn't like going this slow, she felt like she was on the edge of a stall.

"Hey – that's that strange plane that's been taxing around the field for the last week!"

"Yeah, but it's not the one that they've actually been flying."

"So, do you want to play?" I asked.

"What the hell do you mean?"

"Four against one sounds about fair, how about it?"

"You're on!"

I spent the next half hour chasing them around the sky, it really wasn't much competition. I had way too much speed and acceleration; they couldn't get to me no matter what they did. And I could nail them any time I wanted. Finally it settled into a pattern, they'd try to spot me coming and then maneuver madly when I was too close and going too fast to stay with them, about half the time they might actually have gotten away. But even when they did I was usually able to turn her around and come screaming back long before they had picked me up again and I'd nail them on the return pass.

Finally we called it quits, one of the guys, the leader I thought, summed it up, "Jesus, if that's what the guys in Europe are running into with those Me-262s I understand why we're pulling in our heads."

I agreed with him, "The 262s not as good as this is, but it's a lot closer to her than it is to a P-51."

"How the hell would you know?"

"Because I've flown one!"

"Colonel Thompson?"

"Who did you think it was?"

One of the other guys spoke up, "But she's a wo…"

Someone else over rode him, "Shut up, Kurt. Jesus! Sometimes you're such a jackass!"

There was silence for a while, I checked my fuel and saw I was down to a quarter, half an hour of dog fitting combined with all the acrobatics and other stuff I'd been doing burned a lot fuel. "Thanks guys, see you around."

I turned back toward the airfield and shoved the throttles forward, as I left them I heard, "Jesus! Look at her go!"

As I approached the airfield I radioed the tower, "Pinto 1, Wright Tower, request permission to land."

"Wright Tower, Pinto 1, you're cleared, first on approach, no other traffic in the area at this time. Barometer 29.2, winds negligible 0 to 5 from the south west."

I settled into the landing pattern, I was glad there wasn't any other traffic to deal with. Which turned out to be a good thing, she wouldn't slow down! I had the throttles all the way back and the engines were at idle but she wasn't shedding speed like a piston engine aircraft would, without the propeller acting as an air brake she just slipped through the air. I turned onto final and even with the flaps down I realized I wasn't going to make it down, I didn't bother trying to lower the landing gear; "Pinto 1, Wright Tower, I'm going to go around and try again."

"Roger, Pinto 1."

I glanced at my fuel gauge; I still had better than a quarter of a tank left in the main fuselage tank, the other thanks I'd drained dry already. That was another thing that had worked; as the tanks emptied she maintained her balance and her performance seemed unaffected other than being even quicker to accelerate. I retracted the flaps and flew several miles away from the field and climbed back to five thousand feet.

As I made my second approach I started doing things much earlier than I had before, halfway down the opposite leg I dropped the flaps and let her slow on her own. I went a half mile past the point where I would normally make the 180 degree turn onto the final approach. I made the final turn and as soon as I had her leveled out and aligned with the runway I dropped the gear. The gear doors opened with a series of sharp 'thunks' and then there was a whine as the landing gear lowered. I could feel the increased drag but she was still only gradually slowing down.

I passed over the runway threshold at about fifty feet and let her find her way down; I had plenty of runway left. She settled slowly and then the main wheels touched down with a couple sharp chirps. Moments later the nose dropped softly to the runway and the smoothness of flight was replaced with the rumble of the tires on the runway.

With everything down I eased on the brakes and slowed her to the point where I could turn off the runway and onto the taxiway and head back toward the hanger. I reached up and released the canopy and let it slide to the rear, the oppressive heat came flowing back in but I hardly noticed it. As I approached the hanger I saw two groups of guys on either side of the doors. I recognized my gang, they weren't hard to spot since they were all waving their arms and hugging each other and I could hear their shouts and cheers. On the other side of the hanger door I saw the engineers and mechanics of the official prototype; they were looking at me in either disbelief or with sullen expressions.

A couple of my guys separated from the crowd, they trotted to the hanger doors and I saw one had a set of paddles while the other some wheel chocks slung over his shoulder. I followed the man with the paddles directions as I taxied slowly into the hanger and over to her usual parking place. I shut her down and then sat for a couple of moments while some of the adrenaline wore off. She was a dream to fly but I realized I had been waiting tensely for some catastrophic failure the entire time I had been flying her.

I patted the throttle cluster with my left hand and said softly, "Sorry babe, I never should have doubted you."

The noise level was rising as the guys clustered around the plane, some cheering and others trying to ask questions. There were some scraps and a light thud; then Chris was on the maintenance platform that had been shoved up to the fuselage below the cockpit. I looked at him and grinned, he grinned back and shook his head in amazement, "Jesus Thompson! I never expected you to pull a stunt like that!"

"And why the hell not?"

"You're too straight laced…"

His voice tapered off as I gave him a hard look, "You don't really know me."

He shrugged and the grin came back, "So how does she fly?"

"Like a dream!"

"Were you really dog fighting those P-51s?"

I nodded, "Tore the shit out of them too."

I released the straps and disconnected myself from the plane and stood up. Chris gave me a hand over the cockpit coaming; I staggered a little, my legs felt weak and shaky. I'd been in the cockpit most of the day and the heat and dehydration were starting to get to me. I climbed slowly down from the platform, careful as my legs slowly regained their strength. When I stepped off the ladder the guys were all around me patting my back and asking innumerable questions. I couldn't keep them straight and didn't try to respond, someone handed me a cold coke and I drank it down.

Suddenly a nasally voice cut through the din and everyone went silent, "Lieutenant Colonel Thompson!"

The people in front of me moved to the side creating an open area between me and Major General Pallet, the tall thin man with an acne scarred face was glaring at me. I came to attention and saluted him, he continued glaring at me for half a minute before he returned the salute, "What the hell do you think you're doing Thompson?!"

"Sir, we're testing this prototype."

"I sent word down to get the engines out of that plane! We need them as back-up for the real prototype, Colonel!"

"Sir, I was advised we were to remove the engines after we completed testing for the day."

"Thompson, your testing was only supposed to be taxi tests! What the hell were you doing up in the air!"

"Sir, the taxi tests were nearly complete and I thought it a good idea to get a little flight time before we were grounded until we can get some more engines."

He was losing control of his anger, I could see his face getting redder and redder, "You insubordinate bi… I ought to bring you up on charges! You had no authorization to flight test that aircraft!"

"General Howard put me in charge of the test sequence for this aircraft, sir. I can alter it as results or conditions dictate, sir."

He glared at me for another minute then snarled at me, "Get those damn engines out of that plane!" He turned away from me and pointed at the senior GE engineer, "YOU! Come with me!"

I watched as he stomped away followed by his aide and the GE engineer, for some reason I thought we were going to have trouble getting more engines. I hoped Howard would be able to do something when he got back but I was worried. Damn I wished Buffy was around so I could talk to her, there had to be some way to get somebody to see reason!

Chris was standing at my elbow, "God damned asshole!" I turned to him and he saw me looking at him, he flushed red, "Oh… sorry Barb."

I shook my head, "I was thinking fucking idiotic prick… but either will do."

One of the other GE engineers came up, "How were the engines?"

"Beautiful!" I sad, "Performed like a dream. I was pushing them quite a bit so you'll want to check them close but they seemed perfect."

He nodded, "We'll work with your guys to get them out and then check them over. I'll let you know if we find any problems."

"Thanks"

He looked at the departing backs of Pallet and his boss, "I don't know what he's got on them but he's got them by the short hairs over something." My expectations of getting more engines any time soon went even further into the tank.

Three days later Chris and I were standing by the hanger door looking out at the grand stand Pallet had erected in front of the hanger. I'd seen General Arnold from a distance half an hour before as he and the other big wigs were led out to the stands to watch the demonstration of the new jet fighter prototype. There were half a dozen other generals in his group and a couple distinguished looking civilians, War Department high mucky-mucks I guessed. There were also two Navy admirals and a couple Navy lieutenants, their aides I thought, the blue uniforms a little out of place among the sea of khaki.

I couldn't help smile a little, even as disgusted as I felt, as the official prototype sat stationary on the tarmac fifty yards from the grand stand, wisps of smoke coming from the entire length of the fuselage. If I had to make a guess I would say she had fried a major electrical run, the arcing and sparking coming from a hole near her nose where a hatch had blown open was a pretty good clue.

She'd only started to taxi out when the failure had happened. I thought the pilot had compounded her problems, he evidently thought he had an engine fire so he had fired off both engine fire extinguishers before climbing out of the cockpit and running away from the plane. Foam and fire retardant were now dripping out of both ends of the engines under her wings, I would guess they were not going to run again anytime soon.

The official prototype was almost a copy of the Me-262, altered slightly so she didn't have quite the same silhouette but you could certainly see the resemblance. The changes they had made to meet the Army's requirements, the biggest hurdle was meeting the range requirements, hadn't helped the design. I thought she'd have worse performance than the Me-262 and she'd have significantly lighter armament, down to four 50s and not all that much ammo. From the fuel capacity figures I had seen she also wasn't going to meet the range requirements, at least not given the fuel consumption we'd been seeing from the engines.

She was being swarmed over by technicians but I knew she wasn't going to get into the air anytime today, probably not anytime in the next week. I wondered how much longer they were going to keep all the big wigs sitting out in that grand stand under the blazing sun. Between the sun and the humidity I sure wouldn't have wanted to be out there.

Then I saw movement in the grand stand and soon General Arnold was coming down the steps and turning toward us, the rest of the crowd trailing after him. I guess he'd decided he'd had enough. Toward the back of the crowd I saw Pallet scrambling to catch up to him but too many people blocked his way. The General was coming toward where we were standing, heading for the closest shade I suspected.

Suddenly a thought came to me, I moved closer to his path and waited until he was in the shade, then came to attention and rendered a crisp salute, "General Arnold!"

He noticed me for the first time, then returned my salute and stepped closer to me, "Colonel Thompson, you're looking well."

"Yes sir, I was wondering if you had a minute to inspect our prototype, since the demonstration seems to be off?"

"Prototype? Oh, the one North American was backing. I heard that it wasn't anywhere near ready to fly nor would it meet our requirements."

"Sir?!" I said, shocked by his statement, "No sir! We've had her in the air. And I believe she would meet all the Army's requirements."

Pallet finally made it to General Arnold's side, "Lieutenant Colonel Thompson quit bothering the General!" He turned to the General, "Sir, I'm sure we'll have her fixed in a day or two and we'll be able to continue the demonstration."

"General, you know very well I'll be heading back to DC tomorrow."

I decided to stick my neck out, "Sir, we could demonstrate our prototype."

Pallet wheeled on me, "Shut up, Thompson! Your plane doesn't even have engines!"

Arnold looked at me, "Is that correct?"

"Sir, General Pallet had us remove the engines so they could be used as spares for his prototype. Since she's not going to need them we could re-install the engines."

Pallet snorted, "The General already said he'd be leaving tomorrow!"

"Sir, it wouldn't take that long."

Arnold looked at me, "How long."

"A couple of hours, sir."

Pallet glared, "You can't install two jet engines and have them tested and ready to fly in that amount of time!"

Chris had stepped up next to me, "Yes we can, she's designed for quick engine changes. All we need is the engines."

General Arnold's aide spoke up, "Sir, you have that conference from 1500 to 1700," he glanced at his watch, "that's starting two hours from now. And the rest of your schedule is full."

"Sir?" A familiar voice spoke up from the other side of Pallet; General Howard had finally shown up.

Arnold turned to him, "General Howard, where have you been? I thought I'd see you before now!"

"Yes sir, I was completing a task General Pallet assigned me, but I'm here now. Everybody scheduled for that conference is either here or readily available, we could do that while they're getting the prototype ready."

Arnold thought for a moment, "Do it! Reschedule the conference for 1330 to 1530," he turned to me, "Colonel, we'll take a look at your prototype at 1530, if she's ready to fly."

At 1530 I was in the Pinto and we were sitting on the tarmac in front of the grand stand. We had to wait a little longer for them to arrive and get seated but at 1535 I started her engines and taxied out toward the runway. Ahead of me four P-51s trundled along, the same four I'd played with on my last flight. While the guys had put the Pinto's engines in I'd found them and talked them into helping with the demonstration. Once I explained what was going on they were eager to join in.

My radio came alive with their call, "Eagle flight, Wright Tower, a flight of four P-51Ds, requests permission to take-off."

"Roger Eagle Flight, you are first for take-off, standby on the taxi way, a C-47 is inbound and should be landing in a couple of minutes. You'll be next after he clears the runway."

"Eagle Flight, Wright Tower, acknowledged."

"Pinto 1, Wright Tower, a flight of one, requests permission to take-off."

"Pinto 1, you're cleared after Eagle Flight."

"Roger, Wright Tower."

I checked with the ground crew and verified everything was clear. I double checked the instruments and electrical switches, she was running on battery and everything was ready. I pushed the throttle for the left engine to the starting detent and then pushed the start button; there was a deep 'thump' as the ignition cartridge fired. Unlike the Me-262 and its little gasoline engine the GE engines were started with ignition cartridges, a 10 gauge shotgun shell fired into the turbine to get it spinning. There were ten of them for each engine mounted in a feed magazine but I'd never had to use more than two to get an engine started.

I heard and felt the 'whumph' as the turbine lit off, the increasing whine as she spun up letting me know she was started. I eased the throttle back to idle and then repeated the procedure with the second engine. I gave both engines about thirty seconds to warm up a little and settle down - then I released the brakes and eased the throttles forward. As I turned onto the taxiway I could see the four P-51s waiting at the end of the taxiway as a C-47 settled onto the runway.

By the time I reached the end of the runway everything was warmed up and ready to go, I waited a minute as the second pair of P-51s took off, "Pinto 1, Wright Tower, ready for take-off."

"Wright Tower, Pinto 1, you're cleared."

I released the brake and gave her a touch of throttle and pulled out onto the runway, turning until I was aligned with the center of the runway and then I shoved the throttles all the way forward. I didn't have to worry about flooding out or starving the engines by moving the throttles too quickly - GE had come up with a neat trick. They'd developed a control that limited the increase or decrease in fuel flow to what the engines could take regardless of the change in throttle. The result was that they didn't respond directly to throttle changes, but they responded as fast as they could. It had worked fine so far, giving us better response than if the pilot had to think about regulating throttle changes on his or her own.

She raced down the runway, I didn't hold her down as I had the first time but let her lift off as soon as she wanted. We hadn't covered a third of the runway when she lifted clear. I kept the climb angle down while I got her cleaned up and then banked her around, "Pinto 1, Wright Tower, I'd like to make a low altitude pass down your runway."

"Pinto 1, no traffic in area, you are cleared."

I swung her around in a long 360 degree turn until I was lined up with the runway. The entire time I had kept the throttles all the way forward and I was doing more than 500 Knots as I neared the end of runway. I knew that our radios were being piped to speakers near the grand stand so the audience could hear anything that was being transmitted.

As I neared the end of the runway I glanced at my altimeter confirming my altitude, "Climb demonstration, starting altitude 200 feet!"

As I passed the end of the runway I pulled the stick back to my gut and her nose rose into the air, as she increased her angle I eased the stick forward until it was centered when she was pointed straight up and she rocketed into the sky, I called out our altitude as we climbed, "1000… 2000… 3000… 4000…"

When I reached 22,000 feet I leveled off, she had been slowing down and I didn't know how high she would actually go but I thought I'd given an adequate demonstration. I heard Chris on the radio, "Pinto base, Pinto 1, confirming climb 0 to 22,000 feet in two minutes twenty seconds."

"Roger, Pinto base."

"That is a rate of climb in excess of 9400 feet per minute," He didn't say it but everyone in that grand stand knew, or should have known, that was almost three times what a P-51 could do. I was shedding altitude as fast as I could without going into a full blown power dive; that was one thing I didn't want to do until we had a lot more experience with her. She was so fast I thought she'd have the same problem the P-38 had experienced; it could dive so fast that the controls would lock up and you couldn't pull out.

I was down to about fifteen thousand feet and dropping steadily, "Eagle Flight, Pinto 1, ready to play?"

"Roger, Pinto 1, we're about ten miles north of the field."

"Eagle Flight, I'll orbit the field at 5000, bounce me when you think you can!"

I continued my decent until I was at 5000 feet, low enough that the people on the ground should be able to see us, and then waited for the Mustangs. For the next half hour they tried to get me or to evade me, they weren't very successful on either front. Like the previous time I just had too much acceleration and speed for them to stay with me so I controlled the engagements. I was also finding that despite her speed she could turn almost as fast as a P-51 and she could out roll them like they were stuck in mud.

"Pinto 1, Eagle Flight, I think we've demonstrated that enough, let's do the last two demonstrations."

"Roger, Pinto 1."

"Pinto 1, Wright Tower, Pinto 1 and Eagle Flight request permission to perform low level maneuvers over the field for the next half hour."

"Wright Tower, Pinto 1, stand by for a couple, we've got two planes departing then the field will be clear."

"Roger, Wright Tower."

"Wright Tower, Pinto 1, you know you're putting on a hell of a show! I think just about everyone on the base is outside watching you guys."

I grinned to myself; if they thought what they'd seen was a show just wait! I sent Eagle one and two south for their part while Eagle three and four orbited with me a couple of miles west of the field. I saw the two C-47s take off and a couple of minutes later I heard from the tower.

"Wright Tower, Pinto 1, the field is clear."

"Roger Wright Tower, Eagle 4, take up your spotter position, Eagle 3 I'll conform to you, start the approach."

Eagle 4 turned away and headed for the field while I pulled alongside Eagle 3, I followed him around until we were a couple of miles northeast of the field and lined up with the runway. We dropped speed and altitude until we were at 200 feet and going as slow as we could. She was feeling very sluggish and I thought she was right on the edge of a stall, not something I wanted to experiment with at this altitude, "Eagle 3, just a touch more speed."

I matched the P-51 as he increased her speed by about 10 Knots and she felt a lot better, "Eagle 3, that's good."

We were approaching the end of the runway, I saw Eagle 4 off to the side making lazy figure eights. He lengthened his current leg and when he turned back he was in position to watch us, then I heard him, "Eagle 4, Demo flight, stand by… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… MARK!"

At his yell of 'MARK' I slammed the throttles forward, immediately the turbines started winding up but I could see Eagle 3 starting to pull away from me. His piston engine responded more quickly to the throttle change. He got about three lengths ahead of me before my increasing rate of acceleration matched and then passed his, by the time we were halfway down the 10000 foot runway I was ahead of him and pulling away rapidly. When I roared past the grand stand I glanced at my air speed indicator, it was just passing 450 Knots. A couple seconds later I passed the end of the runway and pulled back on the stick and climbed to 5,000.

As I climbed I eased off the throttle and turned south toward Cincinnati, then I heard Chris, "Pinto 1, what were your starting and ending speeds for the 10000 foot acceleration run?"

"Pinto Base, 140 Knots and 465 Knots."

"Eagle 3, how about you?"

I heard the P-51 pilot answer, "Pinto Base, 140 Knots and 350 Knots."

"Roger that, from our timing Pinto 1 took 18 seconds to cover 10000 feet, Eagle 3 took 24 seconds. When Pinto 1 reached the end of the runway Eagle 3 was just under the ¾ mark."

In the distance I saw the cluster of tall buildings marking downtown Cincinnati, "Pinto 1, Eagle 1, I'm almost there, you can start your run anytime."

"Eagle 1, Pinto 1, Roger. Eagle 2, are you ready?

"Eagle 2 is ready."

I kept to the west so I wouldn't interfere with Eagle 1, as I neared the river I spotted Eagle 2 orbiting a couple thousand feet below me, to the east of downtown and right over the river. "Eagle 1, Eagle 2, here I come!"

I looked to the south and spotted Eagle 1 streaking north at about 2000 feet, he had her wound all the way up, light smoke coming from his engine exhausts confirming he was using war emergency power. As he neared the river Eagle 2 called out, "Pinto Base, stand by to begin timing!"

I heard Chris respond, "Roger Eagle 2."

Eagle 2 came back on the radio, "5… 4… 3… 2… 1… MARK!" Eagle 1 flashed over the river and continued on course, a little east of north, toward Wright-Patterson. I continued south about ten miles and then orbited while Eagle 1 made his run.

After a little more than five minutes I heard him, "Eagle 1, Pinto Base, field in sight!"

A couple seconds later I heard Chris, "Eagle 1, we've got you… Mark! I've got… 6 minutes 27 seconds, what was your speed?"

"Pinto Base, she indicated 420 knots."

"Pinto Base, Pinto 1, ready anytime you are."

Before I could respond I Eagle 2 spoke up, "Eagle 2, in position, standing by."

I turned north and shoved the throttles all the way forward, the slow initial acceleration was soon replaced by the rapid acceleration as her turbines spun up and the thrust increased. The air speed indicator was up to 590 Knots when I had to back off the throttles slightly, the engine RPMs were touching the red line. She held that as I saw the river approaching, "Eagle 2 – here I come!"

"Got you Pinto 1… JESUS!… 2… 1… MARK!"

"Pinto Base, Eagle 2, we got it!"

I flashed over the city, I wondered for a moment what all the civilians down there were thinking; then concentrated on keeping her steady. In a couple of minutes I saw the Wright-Patterson tower in the distance, it was almost directly in front of me. I corrected my course slightly until it was centered in my wind screen, "Pinto 1, Pinto Base, here I come!"

There was silence for a moment then Chris responded, "Pinto 1, we've got you… MARK!" I was over the tower and started climbing away as I throttled back. "Pinto 1, time on your run was 4 minutes 35 seconds, what was your speed?"

"Pinto Base, she indicated 590 knots… I think we're going to have to get an air speed indicator that's going to register higher than 600 knots. I've pegged this one a couple of times already today."

"Roger Pinto 1."

"Pinto 1, Wright Tower, request approach and landing instructions."

"Pinto 1, area clear, you are first in pattern, standard downwind leg at 50 degrees for landing on 23 R, winds from the south at 5 to 10, barometer 29.3."

"Roger Wright Tower," remembering my experience from the first time I tried to land her I dropped my flaps while I was still on the downwind leg of the approach. As I came out of the long bank to align with the runway I dropped the gear, she floated over the end of the runway, still not wanting to stop flying. She finally touched down about a third of the way down the runway; I was going to have to learn some new habits to land her where I wanted instead of where she wanted.

I slowed her down and turned onto the taxiway and headed back to the hanger. I released the canopy latch and let it slide back, getting a cockpit full of hot muggy air as a reward. There was a roar as the P-51s landed, they waved to me as we passed each other and I waved back. As I neared the hanger I saw the grand stand was empty, a couple people were standing around but I didn't see any of the bigwigs. One of the ground crew was waiting for me with paddles and guided me into the hanger.

I came to a stop and set the brakes and shut down the turbines, then started disconnecting myself from the plane. I became aware of the crowd forming around my plane; I looked out and saw General Arnold standing about twenty feet from me, his eyes briefly meeting mine before they went back to examining the Pinto. The ground crew moved a service platform into position and I climbed out of the cockpit and down to the hanger floor.

I walked up to Arnold and raised my hand in salute, after a moment he returned it and his eyes met mine, "Hell of a demonstration, Colonel Thompson."

"Hell of an airplane, General."

He nodded, behind him I saw Pallet scowling and General Howard, his face expressionless but I could see a twinkle in his eye and he gave me an almost imperceptible nod. I returned my attention to Arnold, after a moment he turned his head to look at Pallet, "General, I want a briefing on your prototype," he turned back to me, "Colonel, I want the same from you after General Pallet completes his briefing." He glanced at his watch, "I'll give you until 1930 to get things organized."

The General's aide spoke up, "Sir, you're supposed to be at the reception in Dayton with the mayor at 2000."

"Call them, tell them I'll be late but I'll try to make it," He glanced around at the crowd of senior officers clustered around us, his eyes lit on a Lieutenant General who gave a slight nod, "General Tofson will have to fill in for me until I can get there."

The Lieutenant General nodded, "Yes sir."

Three hours later and I was in a large conference room along with Chris, we had been listening to Pallet brag about his prototype for the last twenty minutes. He ended trying to slam our bird, "Unlike the prototype developed by North American Aviation our plane uses a proven configuration and will not require special training and testing to resolve handling issues do to that configuration. We have also designed the aircraft for a full weapons complement."

One of the officers from Arnold's staff, at least I didn't recognize him, held up his hand, Pallet noticed him and after a moment's hesitation nodded to him. He was looking at the spec sheet Pallet had handed out at the start of the briefing; he claimed he didn't have enough copies for us so I'd only gotten glimpses of it from my neighbors. "General, the total fuel tankage specified on this and the fuel consumption figures I've seen would seem to give your plane a range that is only 75% of that called for in the requirements document."

"Major, we've been assured by GE that the production engines will have better fuel efficiency, they've estimated a 20% increase."

I had seen the figures from GE; they hoped to get a 20% increase in the next version, at least 6 months from now. And they had estimated a slight drop in efficiency, up to 5%, when they went to mass production as opposed to the almost hand built engines we were getting now. By the skeptical look I saw on the Major's face I thought he had a better handle on the true numbers than Pallet but he didn't say anything more.

A Colonel on the other side of Arnold raised his hand, after a moment Pallet acknowledged him, "Sir, your spec sheet gives a top speed of 560 Knots at 25,000 feet. The prototype we saw demonstrated today was getting close to 600 and sea level, do you expect to be able to improve your aircrafts performance."

I could see Pallet was getting a little upset with the questions, "We've done those figures as estimates for production aircraft, not one-off prototypes."

"Sir," the Colonel continued, "but you're using a maximum thrust value of 2200 lbf, the GE engines are only rated at 2000 lbf."

"Again we're relying on the figures GE has given us for what to expect when we're ready to go into production."

General Arnold spoke up, "And when would that be?"

"We estimate we'll be able to start production by the first of the year."

Before anyone else could raise any more questions General Arnold said, "Thank you, General, that was most informative. Colonel Thompson, if you would care to give your briefing."

I stood up and walked to the podium across from General Arnold that Pallet had been using, he walked around the table and took a seat near the far end alongside the chief engineer from Douglas. Chris handed out our data sheet for the Pinto and I spent about ten minutes going over it. The last thing I covered was the Pinto's weapons system.

"We have designed the aircraft for one 20mm GE rotary cannon that is currently in development, it is estimated that it will be in production within 60 days."

One of Pallet's aides raised his hand, without waiting for me to acknowledge him he spoke up, "One 20mm cannon? How on earth is that going to make your plane an effective fighter?"

"I said one 20mm rotary cannon."

"What on earth is a 'rotary' cannon?" He said, half chuckling.

"It's an updated version of a Gatling gun, the rotational force provided by a high torque electric motor."

"A Gatling gun!" This time he did chuckle.

"Yes, a Gatling gun, a gun that at this point has achieved a sustained rate of fire in excess of 4000 rounds per minute and that is designed to reach 6000 RPMs. That will give our aircraft the fire power equivalent to 9 20mm cannons as carried by the P-38." His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide, "To provide the support for that fire power she's designed to carry over 3500 rounds or 2200 rounds when greater range is desired and the auxiliary internal fuel tank is utilized."

The Colonel that had raised the question of the fuel consumption raised his hand; I nodded to him, "I see on the specification that you have provided three hard points for external stores, one on the centerline and two outboard of the main landing gear."

"Yes sir, since the engines are not taking up that area of the wing we have provided those hard points although at this time we cannot say how useful they will be."

I heard a snort from down the table and glanced down to see Pallet covering his mouth, I turned back to the Colonel as he asked, "And why do you say that?"

"We have several concerns; primarily we aren't sure what kind of external stores currently available will be able to withstand the speed at which she'll fly. A couple of engineers have done some brief checks and things like the current air to ground rocket pods will require significant redesign before they will be usable by the Pinto. Another concern is the effect that those external stores will have on her performance; we know from current aircraft that they cause significant performance degradation and that may be even more extreme for jet fighters."

General Arnold spoke up, "Colonel, would you care to explain why you selected the configuration you did."

"Yes sir. We were concerned with several things; one was what was just discussed – we wanted to provide external stores hard points, minimally they will be useful for drop tanks to extend the aircrafts range. Another concern was to get the engines as far from the ground as practical, these turbines are extremely susceptible to FOD," I saw confusion on some faces so I added, "foreign object damage. The configuration of the wing and the placement of the landing gear also provides protection, it is almost impossible for anything thrown up by the wheels to get into the engines."

General Pallet spoke up, "What about the spent shell casings from your magic cannon, at least on our aircraft they're being ejected behind the engine intakes so they can't be sucked in."

"Sir, the rotary cannon does not eject any spent shell casings, partly for that reason and also to maintain the aircraft's balance. With the large quantity of ammunition carried if we ejected the casings the aircraft would be out of balance or we would have to have some kind of disposable ballast to dump. The ejection system of the cannon automatically feeds the spent shell casings back into the magazines."

General Arnold nodded, "Before you were interrupted you were explaining the reasoning for the aircrafts somewhat… exotic… configuration, continue."

"Yes sir." I had to think for a moment to where I had left off, "Another advantage of putting the engines in the nacelles outside of the fuselage is that it provides for more effective cooling. The GE engineers have reported significantly less wear on our engines than those being used by the other prototype, they aren't 100% sure of the reasons at this time but they are sure at least some of it is due to the better cooling they receive."

"There is also the advantage demonstrated this afternoon, when engine changes are necessary they are much easier to perform and can be completed much quicker. We have also found that standard engine maintenance tasks are easier to perform because of the accessibility of the engines."

"The other 'exotic' design decisions were driven largely by the choice of engine location, for instance the 'T' tail configuration was necessary to keep the stabilizer and elevators out of the engine exhaust. We currently have a design change that we're considering but do to time constraints haven't tried to do it - that is to do away with stabilizer/elevator combination and have a single movable surface in its place, the engineers have labeled it a 'stabilator'. The engineers feel it would be even more efficient but we're reluctant to go to that extreme while we're trying to get her in the air, what we have works well."

I spent the next ten minutes fielding other questions, getting more and more technical to the point where I had to have Chris help me with the answers. Finally General Arnold raised his hand, "Gentlemen, that is all very interesting but we're getting a little far afield and I am supposed to be somewhere else at some point tonight." He turned to me and Chris standing beside me, "How long until North American would be able to start production?"

Chris looked at me and I nodded to him to answer, "We are ready to start tooling up, we can be in production in two months."

General Pallet snorted and Arnold shot him a stern glance; then turned back to us, "Colonel, I understand that the testing has been a little haphazard. Given support how long until a complete acceptance test could be performed."

"Two weeks, provided the additional prototypes are available and no major problems are encountered."

Chris spoke up, "We have two additional prototypes 90% complete, given the go ahead they could be completed by early next week; the only additional requirement would be the engines."

One of the GE engineers spoke up, "We have five engines here that were designated back-ups for the other prototype and an additional 6 second generation prototypes are to be completed by the end of next week."

"Colonel Thompson, what is your estimate of the probability of finding significant problems with the design?"

I thought for a moment, what the hell, I'd flown her in simulated combat both times she'd been in the air, she was a sound plane. "Zero."

There was a loud snort from Pallet and Arnold turned a steely eye on him, "General, I'll speak with you after this meeting. Until then I would appreciate it if you would keep your sound effects to yourself." He turned back to me, "That is pretty optimistic Colonel."

"Yes sir, she has only been flown twice, the first time for a little over two hours and today for almost an hour and a half. However, both times she's been flown as an operational combat aircraft, not as a test prototype. She flies like a dream and I haven't seen one bad characteristic from her. I stalled her several times during the dog fights and she's very gentle and predictable. My one concern is what she'll do in an all-out power dive, I'm afraid she'll suffer a control lock like the P-38, but even that is not a design flaw but something we don't understand about high speed flight. The pilots will just have to be cautioned like P-38 pilots are. Other than that I can't imagine finding a significant problem with her."

"And what about this weapon that's being developed?" he asked.

The GE engineer whose brother was in charge of the development of the new cannon stood up and stepped up next to Chris and I, "Sir, I'm reasonably familiar with that, my brother is in charge. He was asking if we would have a plane to mount it in available in the next couple of weeks so he could get some real testing done on it."

Chris jumped on that, "If we didn't have to make up the dummy installation on the prototypes we could have them ready even quicker, if he's got a cannon to install we could put it in. Even if we have to fill the magazines with sand for testing it would be as good as the dummies."

Arnold looked at the three of us, then turned to General Howard, "General, you are now in charge of the development of the primary jet fighter prototype." He turned back to me, "Colonel Thompson, you are the project officer for the 'Pinto' prototype. I want the completed comprehensive test evaluation on my desk within thirty days. I'll be sending out an officer to certify the testing, I expect you to give him your full cooperation."

"Yes sir," both General Howard and I responded.

General Arnold stood up, his aide yelled out, "Attention!"

Everyone in the room still seated came to their feet, the military personnel coming to attention while Arnold and his party left the room. I saw Pallet glare at me before he turned and walked out of the conference room behind General Arnold's party.


	14. Chapter 14: The Graduation

The sky was clear and deep blue as I cruised across the checkerboard fields far below. Ahead of me I spotted the winding course of a large river, the Missouri, and beyond it a small city. I keyed my mike, "November Alpha Two Six, Sherman Tower, requesting approach and landing instructions."

"Sherman Tower, November Alpha Two Six, state nature of visit."

"Sherman Tower, I'm on a cross country test flight and have decided to RON at your field, O-5 on board."

"November Alpha, will you be requiring services?"

"Fuel and minimal checks which I will supervise; I will need a duty officer and a security officer after I land."

"Roger November Alpha, you are cleared for approach and landing, runway 33, winds are from the north at 10 to 15 mph, barometer is 28.8"

"Copy, runway 33, winds 10 to 15, barometer 28.8."

"Notify when on final."

I flew north of the small city and turned to the south east and dropped the flaps 10 degrees, getting her to slow down was still a problem and we had found flying on flaps the most effective way to dirty her up. I was down to a thousand feet and starting to turn onto the final when the tower called, "Sherman Tower, November Alpha, what the hell are you flying?"

"Sherman Tower, she's a Pinto, I'm on final now."

"Roger November Alpha," I could hear the question in his voice but he didn't ask any more questions, he did forget to let up on the transmit key, I could hear voices in the background.

"Look at that thing!"

"What the hell is it?"

"It's got to be one of those new 'jets', but when did we get any?"

He finally remembered to release the key and my earphones went quiet just as her wheels chirped on the runway. The Pinto I was flying was the second aircraft off the production line; the first was parked in the lobby at the North American plant in Columbus where they were being built.

I slowed her down and turned onto the taxiway, a jeep with a checkered 'Follow me' sign pulled in front of me 50 yards down the taxiway and I followed him to the front of a hanger just past the main building with the control tower rising above it.

I shut down the turbines and slid the canopy open; a couple ground crewmen were standing about twenty feet away, clearly unsure of what to do. I yelled over to them, "Chock the main wheels and somebody haul that maintenance platform over here!" I pointed to the aluminum stand on wheels normally used to gain access to engines for checks or maintenance.

A couple of minutes later I'd finished disconnecting myself from the Pinto and had directed the platform into position beside the cockpit. I climbed down from the plane and as I got off the platform I saw another jeep approaching, this one with a couple of officers in it. I waited until it came to a stop about twenty feet away, after a moment the two officers got out, one was a Captain with a brassard around his arm with 'AOOD' on it, the Assistant Officer Of the Day, the other officer was a Lieutenant with an MP brassard around his arm. They walked over to where I was standing and came to attention and saluted me, "Captain Westcott and Lieutenant Denham reporting as requested."

I returned their salute, "Captain, Lieutenant, I'm Barbara Thompson. I'm going to be staying here over night and I'll require a little support from you." I got out the orders I carried to insure no one questioned my having the Pinto or the orders I gave concerning her and handed them to Westcott. "If you'll take a look at those you'll see I'm authorized to draw on some of your resources."

I gave him a minute to look over the orders, when he finished he looked up at me, "Yes ma'am, what can we do."

"If you've got room in a hanger, or can make room, it would be easier. If she has to sit out here in the open then she'll have to have two guards stationed on her at all times and a Sergeant or senior NCO will have to check her and them every hour. If she's in a hanger then a single guard is sufficient and he can be checked by the duty NCO."

Westcott turned to one of the enlisted men, a buck sergeant, "Sergeant Fowler, have you got space or can you make space?"

"Yes sir," he looked at the Pinto for a moment, "we've got space, we'll have to move a couple planes a little to clear an area for her but she's not that big."

"Okay, Sergeant, get to it."

"Sir," Lieutenant Denham spoke up, "If I can have the jeep I'll go get the duty MP Sergeant and one of the men to take the first watch, it shouldn't take but a couple of minutes."

He nodded and handed the keys to the Lieutenant, "Make it quick, Lieutenant."

"By your leave, ma'am," he saluted and I returned it and he turned on his heel and headed for the jeep.

"Captain, once we get settled I need to get over to the BOQ at CGSC."

"I'll have a driver take you; it's only a couple of miles, I'd take you ma'am but I'm not supposed to leave the airfield."

"A driver will be just fine." I glanced at my watch my watch, it was just after noon, "How far is it from the BOQ to wherever it is they'll be holding the CGSC long course graduation ceremonies?"

"With this weather they'll be held on the parade ground behind the school, just across from the BOQ. I believe the ceremonies are supposed to start at 1400."

I nodded, "That's my understanding."

We chatted while we waited for the hanger to be rearranged so the Pinto could be moved inside. I'd flown to Leavenworth to see Buffy graduate, she'd sent me an invitation but I hadn't been sure I could make it, then the production aircraft started arriving and General Howard had told me to take one and get my ass to Kansas.

The Pinto was being built at NA's Columbus, Ohio plant and would have to be ferried from there around the country. When the production contracts had been awarded the previous month orders were sent to various airfields around the country to set up and start stockpiling jet fuel, fortunately for me Sherman Army Airfield was one of those airfields designated to become jet ready. They didn't have any maintenance personnel assigned yet, the first classes were still in training back at Wright-Patterson, but they had reported they had the fueling facilities set up as instructed. Howard decided this would be a good test, besides if they didn't have the refueling system working I could still make it back to Wright-Patterson with what I had in my tanks.

I had seen Buffy one evening since March. She hadn't been able to get back during the break in early June; she'd spent that weekend helping rescue people in a small town not far from Leavenworth that had been flattened by a tornado. She did get back to Wright-Patterson for a night in the middle of August during the break between her third and fourth quarters at CGSC. We had spent the night together at the Biltmore as we had the first, making love and talking. For some reason she'd gotten the giggles when I'd told her about North American's decision to call the jet a 'Pinto', but she wouldn't say why. All I could get out of her were some cryptic remarks about her mother's first car that didn't make any sense to me.

Crewmen were opening the hanger doors just as the MP Lieutenant returned with two other men in the jeep, a sergeant and a private both with MP brassards on their arms. There was a crowd of ground crewmen standing in the hanger door looking over at us, I saw a Master Sergeant off to the side of the group and yelled out, "Master Sergeant!" I saw his attention focus on me, "I need a crew to move her into the hanger, half a dozen or so, get me one please!"

"Yes ma'am," he yelled back and a moment later half a dozen ground crewmen were coming over to where the Pinto was parked. He came up to me and saluted, "Ma'am, we're not familiar with this type of aircraft."

I returned his salute, "I didn't expect you were, come on." I showed him and his men where it was safe to push her and then climbed back up into the Pinto. A couple of guys moved the maintenance platform out of the way, I glanced around to make sure she was clear and then called out, "Clear the chocks!"

A couple ground crewmen darted under the wings and reappeared a moment later, each holding a wheel chock up for me to see. I released the brakes and then yelled to the ground crew, "Ready to roll!"

I steered the Pinto into the hanger as the ground crewmen pushed her. Once we were inside the hanger I saw there was enough room to swing her around so I locked the left main brake and spun her around until she was facing the hanger door again. Once she was in position I called out, "Thanks, that's good! Secure the aircraft."

I set the brakes and made sure everything was secure. A couple of guys rolled another maintenance platform into position under the cockpit and I climbed out onto it. I moved down to the other end and popped the dzus fasteners on the gun compartment panel and swung it open. I'd had the rearmost magazine section removed and in the space I'd stowed a small duffle and a hanging bag with my dress uniform, I hoped it had come through without too many wrinkles. I got the bags out and secured the panel, and then turned and realized quite a crowd was now surrounding the Pinto.

I glanced at my watch, it was now almost 1230, I didn't have time to deal with them now. I stepped to the edge of the platform and let out a piercing whistle that quieted the murmurs and brought everyone's attention to me, "If anyone wants, tomorrow afternoon at 1 PM I'll give a show and tell about the Pinto. Show up then if you're curious; for now stay clear of her."

I climbed down from the maintenance platform and grabbed my bags and went over to where the AOOD and the MP Lieutenant were standing with the two enlisted MPs. "Lieutenant, Sergeant, she has to have an armed guard on her at all times, no one is to approach her without my presence and approval."

"Yes ma'am," The Lieutenant responded.

I looked from him to the MP Sergeant and back again, "In addition, the duty NCO must check the guard at least once each hour and the check must be logged in the security diary."

The Lieutenant glanced at the Sergeant and got a sharp nod of acknowledgement and then turned back to me, "Understood, ma'am, it will be taken care of."

"Thank you, sorry to screw up your weekend but she's too new; people are going to be curious and they'll crawl all over her given a chance." I saw the Master Sergeant that had organized the gang that had moved her inside the hanger was standing a short distance away, listening to our conversation. "Master Sergeant, you heard all that?"

"Yes ma'am."

I nodded to him, "Okay, so have your people to stay away from her. And tell them not to worry, soon they'll be seeing so many they'll be sick of them in no time."

He looked doubtful, "Yes ma'am."

A couple minutes before 1300 I was dropped off in front of the Leavenworth BOQ. A couple of privates were slowly raking leaves off the lawn on either side of the walkway under the direction of a corporal who got slowly to his feet as I got out of the jeep. He came to attention and gave me a slow salute, I returned it "Corporal, since your men are working so diligently would you mind getting my bags?"

"Yes ma'am."

I headed up the walk and into the BOQ, a sergeant was sitting behind the desk and he glanced over at me as I came through the door; he popped to his feet and came to attention, his salute crisp and smart, "Good afternoon ma'am! How can I help the Colonel?"

"You should have gotten a cable requesting a room for me, Lieutenant Colonel Barbara Thompson."

He looked puzzled, "No ma'am… we haven't gotten anything…" then his expression fell.

He started scrabbling around the papers on her his desk as the Corporal from outside brought my bags in, "Ma'am."

I turned to him, "Just put them on the floor, Corporal, that will be all."

He nodded and set the two bags down beside me and headed back outside. I turned back to the Sergeant behind the desk, he had a piece of paper in his hand, "From Wright-Patterson, ma'am?"

"That's right sergeant."

He looked embarrassed, "Uh…"

"What is it?"

"Well, ma'am, I'm afraid there's been a screw up. We don't have a room available for you."

"Didn't you get the request?"

"Yes ma'am, it's just that it was for 'Lt. Col. B. Thompson', and… uh… well we're a little crowded what with the guests here to see the graduation and the next class reporting in to start on Monday and they can't move into the student quarters because the current class isn't out yet…"

"Spit it out, Sergeant!"

"They assigned you to a two man room; Major Milford is the other officer assigned to the room."

"I've lived in tighter quarters than a two man room, Sergeant. I don't think it will hurt me for one night."

"But ma'am, Major Milford's a man!"

Finally the real problem had come up, "And there aren't any quarters available for a female officer?"

He shook his head, "No ma'am."

I thought for a moment, I knew I could crash with Buffy, "Where are the student quarters?"

"They're on the other side of the school complex, maybe fifteen minutes from here, ma'am."

I glanced at my watch, it was almost 1300, that would be cutting it close even assuming I could find Buffy, she might, probably wasn't, even in her quarters.

Screw it, it wasn't like I hadn't shared quarters with a man before, "Well, I guess I'll just have to use the quarters assigned to me, may I have the key?"

"But ma'am! What about the Major?"

"He'll just have to share."

"But he's…" He trailed off in confusion.

"Is he a rapist?"

His eyes went wide and he managed to squeak out, "Uh… no ma'am!"

"Then I don't think I have a whole lot to worry about then do I?"

I held out my hand, after a moment he opened the desk drawer and took out a large ring of keys, after searching for a moment he detached one of the keys. He picked up a book from his desk and handed it to me, "Ma'am… you have to register and sign for the key."

I took the book and filled in the requested information and signed my name. I handed him the book and he handed me the key, "You're in room 227, ma'am."

"Are there laundry services available?"

"Yes ma'am, in the building."

"How long do you think it would take to get a uniform pressed?"

"Just a couple minutes ma'am," He turned his head toward the room behind his disk, "Moore!"

There was the scraping of a chair and a moment later a gangly private came out of the room, "Yes Sergeant?" Then he saw me and came awkwardly to attention, "Sorry ma'am."

"Carry on, private," as he relaxed I picked up my hanging bag and unzipped it and got out my class A uniform, it had wrinkled worse than I thought, "Private, take this down and get it pressed and bring it back to me in room 227. If they can't get it done in the next thirty minutes just bring it back, whatever you do don't leave it with them."

"Yes ma'am,"

I handed him the uniform and turned back to the Sergeant, "Thank you Sergeant, if you'll tell me which way to my room I'll be out of your hair."

"Moore, take the Colonel to room 227 and then do as she requested."

"Yes Sergeant," he came around the desk and grabbed my duffle and headed for some stairs off to the side, I followed along behind him.

Twenty minutes later I had showered and was standing in front of the mirror that hung over a small dresser drying my hair. The quarters were typical spartan Army BOQ quarters; two cots were on either side of the room with their heads against the wall farthest from the door, a night stand between them. A small dresser with a mirror above it was against the either side wall at the foot of cots. A pair of closets flanked the door into the room. On one side a door between the closet and the dresser opened into a bathroom while on the other side an easy chair filled the corresponding space. The quarters were for field grade officers so at least the bathroom wasn't shared with another room.

One of the cots was made up and there was some personnel stuff on the top of the dresser. On the other cot my duffel and empty hanging bag lay beside neatly folded linens and a blanket with a pillow on top of the pile. Originally a couple of bath towels, a hand towel and a wash cloth had been beside them. Now one of the towels was wrapped around me while I used the other to dry my hair. The wash cloth and hand towel were hanging in the bathroom where I'd left them.

My hair was as dry as I was going to get it, sometimes I wished Buffy would go ahead and invent the 'hair blower' that she bitched about not having so often when she was doing her hair. At least the still damp curls weren't long enough to hang down my back. I threw the towel over the foot of the bed and picked up my brush and started to brush out my hair. I heard the snick of a key in the lock and a moment later the door began to open. A man in shorts and a t-shirt, both sweat soaked, stepped through the door and came to a stop when he noticed my gear on the cot. He had a tennis racket and a can of tennis balls tucked under his arm, his head swung toward me.

"Guess my roommate finally showed…" he started to say and then his voice trailed off as his eyes saw me, after a frozen moment he started to back up, "… Oh! Sorry! I didn't…"

He came to a stop and I saw him glance at the door, probably looking at the number, and then over to his dresser where his personal stuff lay. "Major Milford?"

"Who the hell are you?!"

I turned and held out my hand, "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Barbara Thompson; it looks like we'll be roomies for a day."

He stared at me in shock and finally took my hand, "Ma'am?"

"Sorry about the screw-up, hope you don't mind but there aren't any other quarters available so I guess were sort of stuck with each other. I'll only be her tonight and I'm not even sure if I'll actually be staying here. A friend and I may be going into town for the night."

I let his hand go and he looked from me to his stuff and then to his watch, "Uh… I'll leave you to finish up… but I'm supposed to…"

"You're going to the graduation?"

"Uh… yes ma'am."

"You'll want to get cleaned up I imagine, go ahead, don't let me bother you."

"But…"

"If you don't mind me in my birthday suit it's not going to bother me; they haven't got back with my uniform yet."

He slowly closed the door and then went over and dumped his tennis stuff on his cot. He went to the dresser and got out his underclothes and then went to closet and got out a neatly pressed uniform and turned toward the bathroom. I shook my head, "Major, if you take your uniform in there the steam will take the crease out of it."

He looked back at me, "But…"

I shook my head, "You don't have anything I haven't seen innumerable times before - it's not going to bother me…"

After a moment he laid the uniform out on his cot and then went into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself. I turned back to the dresser and started brushing my hair out.

A minute later there was a knock on the door, "Yes?"

"Moore ma'am, I have your uniform."

I reached over and turned the knob of and let the door open a crack, "Put it on the cot," and returned to getting my hair in some sort of order.

I could see the private walking toward the cot in the mirror, then he glanced toward me and he came to a sudden stop and his jaw dropped open as he stared at me. I gave him a moment and when he didn't move I spoke up, "Private, it's impolite to stare… especially with your mouth gaping open."

He turned bright red and jerked away, hastily putting my uniform on the cot and scuttling out the door with his head averted, "Yes ma'am."

I finished with my hair, or at least as much as I could do given the time I had. I went to the cot and opened the duffel and got out the jewelry box I used to hold my ribbons and other devices that went on the uniform. I was pinning them onto the coat when I heard the bathroom door open and heard the Major start to walk in and then come to a sudden stop, "Oh! Sorry miss…"

I looked over my shoulder; he was standing in the doorway in boxers and a t-shirt with his eyes wide staring at my ass. I realized that bent over the way I was the towel had pulled up, completely exposing myself. Hastily I straightened up and then I had to grab the towel as it came loose. He started to turn back to the bathroom, "Major, you didn't see anything I wasn't showing… sorry about that."

He stopped and turned back toward me, "Colonel… I just don't know what's…"

"Major, just try to ignore me; I spent a long time living in tight quarters with men where we had to share everything… showers, head… everything. Your seeing me isn't going to bother me, the only rule is no touching without an explicit invitation – and that isn't going to happen."

"Yes ma'am."

I nodded and turned back to the cot, I tucked the towel back in so it would stay in place and then grabbed my panties and pulled them on. I reached for my bra and realized I wasn't going to get it on with the towel on so I pulled it loose and dropped it on the bed, then put on the bra and tucked myself into it. I heard the major moving around his side of the room but studiously kept my concentration in front of me. I put my silver oak leaves on the collar points of my shirt, the only adornment it needed, and then put it on and buttoned it up. I got into my slacks and got myself all tucked in and zipped up before returning to the task of getting the rest of the devices on my uniform coat.

Once I finished with it I turned and sat on the cot to get my shoes and socks on and saw the major had his shirt and pants on and was tying his tie. I finished dressing and glanced at my watch, it was 1345, time to get to the graduation. It looked like the major was just about ready, "Major, would you care to accompany me to the graduation?"

He looked up at me and his eyes stopped on my chest and the three and a half rows of ribbons, I guess he knew how to read ribbons, or at least some of them. His eyes went wide and then he tore them from my chest and looked me in the eye, "You're THE Colonel Thompson!?"

I shrugged, I got that a lot and it was really sort of embarrassing, "If you mean am I the one that gets in the news occasionally then yes, I guess I'm 'THE' Colonel Thompson."

He reddened slightly, "Oh… sorry ma'am…"

"Major, quit apologizing, it's starting to wear thin." I looked at his uniform coat lying on the cot and saw he had a couple ribbons of his own, topped by a Bronze star, "you've seen the elephant, it's not all that it's cracked up to be in both good and bad ways."

"Yes ma'am." He thought for a moment, "It would be an honor to accompany you."

"Then let's get a move on."

There were grandstands erected along the side of the parade ground and the Major and I found some seats in the first row not too far from the center. An Army band was playing softly off to the side as the last stragglers climbed into the grandstand. Then they started playing more loudly, after a moment I recognized the "Caisson Song" and saw a group of officers coming across the parade ground from the school. As they got closer I recognized General Arnold in the group. As they came up the steps into the grandstands someone shouted, "Attention!"

Everyone stood at attention, a moment later the General and his party walked by us. He caught my eye for a moment and gave me a slight nod, I nodded in return. A few moments later they were past and the voice shouted again, "At Ease!"

We sat back down on the bench and resumed our interrupted conversation but a moment later a young 2nd Lieutenant was in front of me, I saw he was a General's aide, presumably Arnolds; he saluted me, "Lieutenant Colonel Thompson?"

I returned his salute, "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"General Arnold requests that you and Colonel Summers attend the reception after the graduation, he wants a word with both of you so don't leave until you've spoken with him."

"Okay, Lieutenant."

"Thank you sir," he turned and headed back toward the center of the grand stand where the General's party was waiting.

The Major looked after him and then turned to me, "I wonder what that is about, sir?"

"I don't know, but since he wants both me and Buffy I doubt if I'm going to like it."

"You and Buf… oh… you mean Colonel Summers."

I nodded, "Yeah, and I have the sneaking suspicion that the easy times are coming to an end."

The band switched to a new tune and a voice came over the loud speaker, "Presenting the graduating class of CGSC class 44-01!"

Down the field I saw about one hundred officers marching in a tight formation. They continued until they were in front of the center of the grand stand and then a tall man just to the side of the formation started yelling commands, "Class 44-01 HALT!" I spotted Buffy at the end of the first column, furthest from me.

"Class 44-01 left FACE!" They all turned in unison to face the grand stand, 'Hand SALUTE!" They all brought their hands to their foreheads together and held them as they stood rigidly at attention. "RECOVER!" One hundred hands snapped back down to their thighs with an audible 'smack'.

"Parade REST!" They each moved their left foot out about twelve inches and then crossed their hands behind their backs. The officer that had been calling the commands made a sharp turn and marched off to the side, then disappeared around the grand stand.

There was some thumping and buzzing from a microphone and then a voice blared out of the speakers behind us, "Welcome dignitaries and friends to the graduation of the Command and General Staff School Class 44-01, General Henry Arnold, Commanding General US Army Air Forces has a few words for us."

A moment later I recognized Hap Arnold's voice. His speech was mercifully short; a pretty generic graduation speech made maybe a little more dramatic than normal since we were in the middle of a war. After he finished the original speaker returned to the microphone, I could see General Arnold had stayed near the microphone and was standing next to a table covered with rolled up pieces of paper, the diplomas I imagined, along with another officer.

"The graduates of Class 44-01 will now be presented their diplomas by General Arnold. The Honor graduate of Class 44-01 is… Colonel Buffy Anne Summers!"

I could hear a subtle gasp go through the crowd as Buffy made a sharp left face, marched five feet parallel to the grand stand until she was opposite the steps on the far side from where I was. She made a right face and marched to and then up the steps, she made another right face when she reached the top of the steps and marched down the aisle until she came to a stop directly in front of General Arnold. She raised her hand in salute and he returned it, then took the diploma from the officer beside him and handed it to her at the same time as he shook her hand. He said something to her and she answered him softly and then stepped to the side as he released her hand and continued her march down the front of the grand stand.

When she was almost to me I spoke quietly, "Nice going, Slayer!"

She almost lost her rigid posture and her eyes swiveled to the side and went a little wide when she saw me, just a touch of a grin turned up the corners of her mouth fractionally and then the stern expression returned. I couldn't help the grin on my features as she marched past and then turned down the stairs. As she neared the formation of students the officer in charge started calling out additional names. He was only waiting about fifteen seconds between each man, not waiting until the diploma was presented like he had for Buffy. There was steady stream of officers marching up, getting their diplomas and then marching back; it only took about half an hour for the ceremony to be completed.

When the final diploma had been given out and the last officer returned to the formation the officer waited for a few moments longer and then announced, "Class 44-01, DISMISSED!"

With a yell everyone in the class took off their hats and threw them high into the air, I was surprised that a class of senior army officers would do such a thing, but then that was sort of traditional throughout the services. The grand stand was emptying and I made my way down onto the parade ground along with the rest of the crowd, it only took me a couple of moments to find Buffy.

I stopped for just a second and then thought protocol be damned! I stepped up to her and wrapped my arms around her and hugged her, she hugged me back. Then I picked her up off her feet and started swinging her around, "Congratulations! Colonel! Sir!"

She started squirming and after a moment I heard her voice in my ear, "Damn it, Barb! Put me down!"

I set her down and looked at her, she was grinning up at me and I grinned back at her, my hands were on her shoulders and I squeezed them, "Did you ever imagine?"

She shook her head but didn't say anything.

Two hours later we were in the officer's club, set up now as a reception for the graduating class. We had come through the reception line, meeting the senior officers from the school and General Arnold. He'd looked severely at Buffy and I when we came through, "Don't leave until I've had a chance to talk to both of you."

"Yes sir," we had both responded.

We had socialized for a while; Buffy seemed pretty popular with her classmates. But now we were in a corner where we could talk with some privacy and sip our wine, then I saw the General's aide that I had met earlier making his way across the room toward us.

He came up to us and came to attention for a moment, "General Arnold would like to have a word with you sirs."

"Lead on, Lieutenant," Buffy said. We followed him across the large room and then down a short hallway and into a private dining room. General Arnold and a Brigadier General that I didn't know were in the room along with another aide.

Buffy and I came in and started to come to attention when Arnold held up his hand, "At ease, Colonels, I think we've had enough formality for today."

"Yes sir," Buffy and I responded.

He looked at us for a moment, his expression serious, "I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you."

Buffy's expression grew serious and I could feel mine start to fall before I made my face go neutral, Buffy asked, "What would that be, sir?"

"General Miller bought a piece of the farm a couple of days ago."

I could see Buffy mask her expression but I knew it hit her, I don't think I did as good of a job in hiding my expression, "How bad, sir?" I asked.

He shrugged slightly, "The doctors think he'll live, but they don't know if he'll ever get back to active duty."

"What happened?" Buffy asked.

"They're having real problems with the Me-262s over there; so bad we've had to cut back on the missions and put on hold other plans we had for this year."

Buffy looked questioningly at him, "You mean the invasion?"

Arnold looked startled and then glanced over at the other General before returning his attention to Buffy, "What do you know about that?"

Buffy shook her head, "Nothing, sir. But I know how much build up there has been in England and I know we're stalled in the Med. I think Roosevelt was right in shutting down Churchill's plan to invade Italy after we cleared the German's out of North Africa. It would be a real mess fighting in that terrain. But we're in a stalemate now and something has to change. What to do next is probably the primary topic in the bull sessions among the students, at least when I'm around and they won't talk about their favorite topic."

"Favorite topic?" the Brigadier asked.

Buffy looked at him askance for a moment and then grinned, "Sex, sir. For some reason they don't seem to think I'd like to join in there discussion."

He started to blush and Arnold chortled a little, "I'm sure you would have joined right in."

"Of course, sir, don't want the discussion to be all one sided. But to return to what you we're saying?"

Arnold nodded, "The only way the bombers have a chance is if we've got the air around them saturated with escorts and then they end up getting in each other's way. Its cut down on the bomber loses but we're losing escorts at an unacceptable rate. Miller decided to take a ride with the bombers to see if he could figure out a better method but they caught some flak and he was wounded."

Buffy scowled as she glanced at me, "Shit!" Then she looked back at Arnold, "Sorry, sir."

Arnold shook his head, "I understand and had a similar reaction. Not only because it happened to a good man but also because it really screwed up our plans."

I spoke up, "We need to get the Pintos operational, sir."

Arnold and the other General nodded in agreement, "That was the plan that got screwed up."

"What plan was that, sir?" Buffy asked.

"General Miller was being called back to the states to organize the first jet fighter wing and get it back to England as fast as possible." Buffy and I both nodded in understanding, Miller had been one of the most experienced group and wing commanders we had. General Arnold looked at Buffy, "Colonel Summers, traditionally the honor graduate of the CGSC course gets their pick from available assignments."

Buffy looked at him, scowling slightly, "Yes sir."

"I'm afraid you aren't going to be given that opportunity."

"Why not sir?! If it has to do with what's missing between my legs I'm…"

"Colonel! You were not going to ever have that option, a war is on and you are much too valuable to have you off on some crazy assignment."

Buffy reined herself in, "Yes sir… so what am I going to be doing?"

"You were going to be General Miller's executive officer. Now you are going to be taking his place." Buffy's jaw dropped in surprise, "And I want to know who you want as your XO next week, and it is not going to be Colonel Thompson, she's already got her next assignment."

I looked at him in surprise; I hadn't seen any orders for me, "Sir?"

"You're going to be the wing's maintenance officer; we have to get that wing operational as soon as possible."

"Yes sir," I said as I nodded in understanding; I would be a lot more effective as the maintenance officer than dealing with all the personnel issues the XO spends most of their time with.

Buffy gave a sharp nod, "Yes sir that would work well. I'll have to think about an XO. Where are we going to be?"

"Southern California, you're going to have to do a lot of flying to get ready and we can't afford to have weather delays."

She nodded again and then she seemed to be lost in thought. Then something came to mind and I looked sharply at General Arnold, he was watching Buffy but after a moment he turned his gaze to me. I raised my eyebrows, after a moment he nodded; it shocked me so much I couldn't stop myself, "Really?"

"Yes, Colonel," He emphasized 'Colonel' and I know my eyes went wide, "you are getting the bump."

Buffy came out of her thoughts and looked at both of us, "What the hell is going on?"

"Buffy, sometimes you are so dense!" she was still completely mystified so I asked, "who commands a wing?"

Buffy's eyes went wide as Arnold held out his hand, "Congratulations Brigadier General Summers."


End file.
